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EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 
1485-1547 


:^!M& 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  •   BOSTON  •   CHICAGO   •  DALLAS 
'  ATLANTA   •   SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Limited 

LONDON   •  BOMBAY   •  CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA.  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


h<»  '.  MowaM 


E:of  .S*j|jrre 


■y 


j^\m 


Hilbttf 


( 'k^fsman  »*V, 


HENRY   HOWARD.   EARL  OF  SURREY 


^tutiieg  in  tE^uDor  iltceracure 

EARLY  TUDOR    POETRY 

1485-1547 


BY 
JOHN  M.  BERDAN 


Nrm  fork 
THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1920 

AU  righit  re*ervtd 


COPTRIOHT,    1920 

By  the  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Published  November,  1920. 


College 
Ubrary 

5-01 


To  C.  B.  T. 

Goe  little  booke:  thy  selfe  prefent. 
As  child  whofe  parent  is  unkent: 
To  him  that  if  the  prefident 
Of  nobleffe  and  of  cheualree.  .  .  . 


1570?,R7 


INTRODUCTION 

When  a  writer  offers  a  new  work  on  an  old  subject,  the  schol- 
arly public  rightly  demands  both  fresh  handling  of  the  old  mate- 
rial and  fresh  material  itself.  True  as  this  is  as  a  general  proposi- 
tion, it  is  still  more  applicable  in  the  case  of  Eariy  Tudor  literature, 
because  here  the  subject  itself  is  usually  considered  to  lack  in- 
terest. That  the  authors,  whose  works  form  the  subjects  for  the 
following  discussions,  are  unread  is  evident,  because  there  are  few 
modem  editions,  and  those  few  in  the  publications  of  learned,  or 
antiquarian,  societies  inaccessible  to  the  general  public.  There  is 
fashion  in  scholarship,  just  as  there  is  in  everything  else.  The 
drama  of  the  sixteenth  century  has  been  elaborately  studied.  To 
the  nineteenth  century,  the  most  fascinating  writer  in  Uterature 
was  probably  Shakespeare.  Any  fact,  any  book,  however  remotely 
connected  with  his  work,  was  valued.  This  interest  embraced 
his  contemporaries,  his  predecessors,  and  the  predecessors  of  his 
predecessors,  until  the  whole  development  of  the  drama  in  England 
has  been  extensively  studied.  For  this  reason  the  dramatic 
problems  are  omitted  in  this  work,  except  as  they  appear  in 
connection  with  the  poetry.  The  case  of  the  poetry,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  quite  different.  Spenser,  intangible,  incomprehensible  and 
very  diffuse,  has  never  proved  so  interesting  a  protagonist.  Much 
less  so  his  predecessors.  It  sounds  a  paradox  when  I  affirm  that 
the  period  is  interesting! 

This  paradox  is  apparent  only.  Interest  may  arise  from  many 
causes;  here  the  interest  is  not  in  the  Uterature  of  the  age  so  much 
as  in  the  succeeding  literature  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  which  it 
conditioned.  That  is  regarded  as  one  of  the  great  periods.  To 
understand  it  is  the  function  of  the  scholar,  and  to  appreciate  it 
is  the  privilege  of  the  reader.  But  its  roots  lie  back  in  the  first 
half  of  the  century.  When  Spenser  was  going  to  college  in  1569, 
Hawes  was  one  of  the  great  English  poets  with  two  editions  in 
1555,  Skelton's  works  had  just  been  collected  in  1568,  Barclay 
had  his  collected  edition  in  1570,  and  Heywood  was  alive,  the 
Dean  of  English  literature.     Tottel's  Miscellany,  from  its  first 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

appearance  in  1557,  had  eight  editions  before  the  close  of  the 
century.  Students  that  begin  EngUsh  literature  with  the  accession 
of  EUzabeth  act  upon  the  illogical  assumption  that  those  vsTiters 
had  no  Uterary  past.  As  Mr.  Colby  wittily  expresses  it:  "They 
have  no  patience  with  development  or  kindliness  for  beginnings; 
they  would  condemn' every  tadpole  as  a  sort  of  apostate  frog." 
That  the  tadpole  is  a  tadpole  must  be  frankly  reaUzed.  I  wish 
to  protest  against  the  sentimentalism  which  finds  undiscovered 
"beauties  of  our  worthy"  in  work  which  the  world  has  agreed  to 
forget.  Dr.  Johnson  with  good  common  sense  protests  to  the 
effect  that  life  is  surely  given  us  for  other  purposes  than  to  gather 
what  our  ancestors  have  wisely  thrown  away  and  to  appreciate 
work  that  has  no  value  except  that  it  has  been  forgotten.  On  the 
other  hand,  aesthetic  appreciation  is  heightened  by  intellectual 
comprehension.  Your  enjoyment  of  a  symphony  is  increased 
by  the  knowledge  of  the  effects  the  musician  is  trying  to  produce. 
Your  appreciation  of  the  power  of  an  artist  is  supplemented  by 
an  understanding  of  the  limitations  under  which  he  produced  his 
masterpiece.  Knowledge  is  the  handmaiden  of  appreciation.  But 
such  knowledge  is  acquired  only  at  the  cost  of  studying  much 
admittedly  inferior  work.  The  moment  that  such  work  is  placed 
in  the  scheme  of  things,  that  it  is  seen  in  relation  to  work  admit- 
tedly superior,  it  gains  a  reflected  interest.  As  in  a  great  poem  Ars 
est  celare  artem,  the  earlier,  cruder  work  shows  traits  which  in  the 
masterpiece  have  defied  your  analysis.  Pope  misjudged  Shake- 
speare, not  because  he  did  not  know  Shakespeare,  but  because 
his  ignorance  of  pre-Shakespearean  dramatists  prevented  him 
from  understanding  the  canon  of  the  Elizabethan  drama  and  by 
so  doing  he  was  unable  to  perceive  the  finesse  of  Shakespeare's 
art.  Yet  the  plays  of  Peele  and  Greene  and  Kyd  are  scarcely 
exhilarating  reading.  So  with  Spenser.  Many  of  the  modem 
criticisms  of  the  Faerie  Queene  would  surprise  no  one  so  much  as 
the  poet  himself.  He  is  praised  for  what  he  did  not  do  and  blamed 
for  what  he  conscientiously  tried  to  do.  Surely  the  first  objective 
in  good  criticism  is  a  realization  of  the  writer's  aim.  And  that 
reaHzation  must  come  from  a  careful  study  of  the  preceding 
writers.  To  this  extent  the  period  may  be  said  to  have  interest. 
To  claim  interest  for  one  period  solely  because  of  its  relations 
to  another  period  is  to  damn  with  faint  praise.     It  is  a  negative 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

advantage.  Before  the  student  takes  up  the  study  of  Early  Tudor 
Uterature  with  enthusiasm  something  positive  must  be  shown  him. 
To  do  this  requires  a  discussion  of  the  nature  of  Hterature.  That 
is  psychological.  As  the  writings  of  an  individual  are  indications 
of  his  mental  processes,  so  the  writings  of  an  age  combine  to  give 
an  impression  of  the  mental  life  and  outlook  of  that  age.  This  is 
the  reason  for  the  well  known  phenomenon  that  the  literature  of 
a  given  period  can  all  be  recognized  as  belonging  to  that  period 
by  the  possession  of  common  characteristics.  The  Hero  and 
Leander  is  as  definitely  Elizabethan,  as  the  Epistle  to  Dr.  Arbutk- 
not  is  definitely  Augustan,  or  as  In  Memoriam  is  definitely  Mid- 
Victorian.  In  other  words,  if  Tennyson  had  lived  two  hundred 
and  fifty  years  previously,  or  Marlowe  a  hundred  and  fifty  years 
later,  they  would  have  written,  if  at  all,  in  quite  a  different  man- 
ner. A  battaUon  moves  as  a  single  unit  only  because  the  separate 
personalities  composing  it  have  surrendered  the  initiative.  But 
in  the  army  of  literature  that  condition  does  not  hold.  Each 
writer  proudly  proclaims  the  fact  that  he  is  captain  of  his  soul, 
that  he  writes  as  seems  to  him  good,  that  he  is  a  conscious  in- 
novator turning  his  back  on  the  past, — ^and  behold!  each  fits 
into  his  place  in  the  great  procession,  the  text-books  label 
him  Elizabethan,  Jacobean,  Restoration,  or  what  not,  exactly 
as  though  his  one  desire  had  been  perfect  conformity,  and  in  a 
survey  of  literature  as  a  whole,  it  is  possible  to  speak  of  the  Au- 
gustan Age,  the  Romantic  Movement,  etc.,  and  to  have  studies 
on  the  Elizabethan  Drama,  the  development  of  the  novel,  the 
Georgian  poets,  etc.  But  for  this  undoubted  fact  there  must 
be  some  explanation.  Bruneti^re  explains  it  by  applying  the 
Darwinian  doctrine  of  natural  selection.  But  what  is  the  sur- 
vival of  the  fittest  in  literature?  Is  there  a  struggle  between  books? 
Joseph  Andrews  was  conceived  in  ridicule  of  Pamela  and  yet  both 
are  still  read.  Is  it  possible  to  imagine  two  authors  whose  appeal 
is  more  opp>osite  in  kind  than  Dumas  and  Jane  Austen?  Yet 
The  Three  Musketeers  and  Pride  and  Prejudice, — the  same  person 
enjoys  them  both.  At  the  mid-century  romance  seemed  dead. 
Dickens  and  Thackeray  and  Trollope  charmed  by  drawing  pictures 
of  modem  life.  Heigh-ho  comes  Stevenson  and  we  all  hunt  pirates 
or  engage  in  Scottish  brawls.  Although  the  doctrine  of  evolution 
seems  inapplicable,  yet  there  must  be  some  explanation. 


X  INTRODUCTION 

If  we  start  de  novo,  then,  there  are  three  factors  which  combine 
to  condition  a  writer's  work:  the  literary  past  as  known  to  him, 
the  present  state  of  thought  in  his  particular  world,  and  his  own 
personality.  These  are  the  three  unknown  factors  in  the  equation. 
He  is  conditioned  by  the  past,  because  we  inherit  both  our  lan- 
guage and  our  forms  of  expression.  Surely  it  is  the  use  only  of 
the  language  that  is  personal;  few  men  have  invented  even  a 
single  word,  and  the  expression  "to  choose  your  words"  means 
merely  to  select  from  your  pitifully  small  proportion  of  the  three 
hundred  thousand  words  in  the  New  English  Dictionary  the 
best  words  at  your  command.  The  choice  of  what  language  shall 
be  your  mother  tongue  is  as  far  from  your  power  as  is  the  selection 
of  your  grandparents.  But  on  the  other  hand,  just  as  you  are 
you  and  not  the  incarnation  of  any  grandparent,  the  fact  that 
your  speech  is  inherited  does  not  prevent  you  from  expressing 
your  own  personality  in  your  use  of  it.  Quite  the  contrary  in 
fact,  since  in  your  conversation  you  give  your  past,  your  educa- 
tion, your  home  surroundings  and  your  character,  and  in  thus 
expressing  your  own  individuality,  you  yet  necessarily  speak  the 
language  of  your  epoch.  The  English  of  today  is  not  the  English 
of  Shakespeare,  of  Dryden,  of  Addison,  of  Wordsworth,  or  of 
Tennyson;  nor  is  it  the  English  to  be  used  in  the  year  2000.  The 
change  in  language  is  slow,  but  certain. 

If  this  be  true  of  language,  the  material  of  which  literature  is 
compounded,  it  is  also  true  of  the  forms  through  which  it  finds  ex- 
pression. Verse  forms,  such  as  the  rime-royal,  the  sonnet,  the  ron- 
deau, etc.,  are  rarely  the  invention  of  one  man.  The  form,  as  we 
know  it,  is  the  result  of  indefinite  modifications  and  combinations 
and  is  the  product  of  many  hands.  Even  back  of  the  Spenserian 
stanza,  for  example,  are  numberless  poems  in  the  seven-line  rime- 
royal  and  the  oitava  rima  of  eight  lines.  Tradition  required  that 
Spenser  should  use  a  stanza  for  the  type  of  poem  he  contemplated. 
By  combining  these  two  well-known  stanzas  and  by  adding  an 
alexandrine  his  supreme  metrical  genius  evolved  a  new  form.  But 
to  assume  that  Spenser  in  conceiving  his  stanza  was  unconscious 
of  the  past  and  forgetful  of  what  others  had  done  before  him  is 
illogical.  His  stanza,  however  original,  is  yet  the  outcome  of  other 
stanzas.  The  same  reasoning  applies  to  the  form  of  the  poem  as 
a  whole.    The  type  of  poem  was  naturally  thoroughly  well-known 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

to  him  as  it  existed  both  in  England  and  in  Italy.  The  chivalric 
element,  the  allegorization  and  the  political  allusion  were  not  new. 
In  writing  a  poem  in  which  they  figure,  he  felt  that  he  was  follow- 
ing traditional  lines, — ^as  he  was.  And,  to  repeat  the  illustration 
used  before,  our  difficulty  in  judging  the  Faerie  Queens  is  due 
largely  to  our  ignorance  of  the  literary  past  as  known  to  him.  A 
great  deal  of  the  unfavorable  criticism  directed  against  his  work 
is  due  to  a  failure  to  recognize  the  peculiarities  and  the  limitations 
of  the  type.  The  critic  must  bear  in  mind  the  aim  of  the  artist. 
The  first  question  is,  then,  to  what  extent  has  he  succeeded  in  ac- 
complishing what  he  set  out  to  do.  The  second  is  to  what  extent 
is  that  aim  laudable.  Otherwise  criticism  becomes  merely  the 
expression  of  personal  preference,  and  one  is  brought  to  the  blank 
wall  of  De  gustibus  non  est  disputandum.  And  unless  the  partic- 
ular problem  of  the  artist  is  clearly  recognized,  intellectual  anarchy 
results.  The  delicate  frescoes  of  Julio  Romano  in  the  Palazzo  del 
Te  are  discussed  in  the  terms  suitable  for  Leonardo's  Last  Supper. 
The  problem  of  Puvis  de  Chavannes  in  covering  the  blank  spaces 
of  a  wall  requires  utterly  different  treatment  from  that  in  painting 
an  easel  portrait.  I  am  using  illustrations  borrowed  from  Art  be- 
cause the  truth  of  the  position  becomes  obvious  from  the  mere 
statement.  In  the  allied  art  of  literature,  unhappily,  the  same 
truth  is  not  so  universally  accepted.  The  generaUzations  that  a 
writer  is  conditioned  by  the  type  of  work  he  has  chosen  and  that 
the  chosen  type  is  conditioned  by  the  literary  past  are  still  tacitly 
ignored  by  many  critics.  And  to  accept  them  as  truths  is  not  an 
easy  matter,  since  such  acceptation  requires  a  withholding  of 
judgment  until  a  well-rounded  understanding  of  previous  work  as 
known  to  the  author  has  been  gained.  The  first  requirement  for 
the  critic  is  not  taste,  not  appreciation,  however  valuable  and  de- 
sirable they  may  be, — it  is  a  knowledge  of  literary  history. 

But  if  a  knowledge  of  the  literary  past  of  an  author  is  essential 
in  judging  his  work,  so  also  is  a  knowledge  of  his  literary  present, 
his  literary  environment,  so  to  speak.  Each  man  is  in  essentials  a 
product  of  his  age.  Our  mental  point  of  view  is  affected  necessarily 
by  our  physical  surroundings.  Modern  sanitation  and  privacy 
make  for  a  higher  sense  of  modesty  and  decency;  increased  facility 
in  transportation  gives  us  a  wider  outlook  and  an  interest  in  world 
affairs.    The  American  bom  in  1900,  by  that  fact,  has  more  varied 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

interests  than  the  American  born  in  1800.  Judged  according  to 
absolute  standards  he  may  be  better,  or  he  may  be  worse;  that  is 
not  the  point  at  issue.  He  is  different  from  his  forefathers,  not 
through  any  quaUty  inherent  in  him  or  for  which  he  deserves  either 
praise  or  blame,  but  because  of  the  accident  of  the  date  of  his 
birth.  The  same  condition  appUes  equally  to  the  intangible  in- 
tellectual factors.  Certain  conceptions  characterize  any  given 
epoch.  For  example,  it  is  impossible  to  over-emphasize  the  doc- 
trine of  evolution  as  originated  with  Darwin  and  amplified  by 
Herbert  Spencer.  It  affects  our  ideas  on  every  subject.  Again 
the  outlook  on  life  of  the  man  of  1900  differs  from  that  of  the  man 
of  1800  because  he  was  born  a  hundred  years  later.  This  difference 
may  seem  more  marked  in  the  contrast  between  some  epochs,  but 
it  always  exists  to  some  extent.  The  son  is  never  identical  with 
the  father.  The  Uterature  of  every  age,  therefore,  exhibits  the 
peculiarities  of  its  time. 

It  follows  from  such  reasoning  as  that  in  the  preceding  para- 
graph that  he  who  most  thoroughly  expresses  the  desires  and  long- 
ing of  his  own  age  is  the  writer  most  popular  in  his  own  age.  This 
can  be  tested  by  the  selling  power  of  the  book.  From  one  point  of 
view,  Uterature  may  be  regarded  as  a  marketable  commodity.  A 
man  buys  a  poem  because  there  he  finds  expressed  emotions  of 
which  he  is  conscious  in  himself,  but  which  in  himself  are  inartic- 
ulate. As  a  man  is  said  to  be  known  by  his  friends,  so  also  is 
he  known  by  the  books  he  reads.  Curiosity  may  account  for  the 
momentary  success  of  a  piece  of  work;  enduring  popularity  must 
be  ascribed  to  other  factors.  For  a  month  the  Hymn  of  Hate  was 
probably  the  most  widely  read  poem  in  England  and  America,  but 
the  explanation  of  that  popularity  was  due  to  purely  temporary 
conditions.  When  those  conditions  changed,  the  poem  lost  its 
interest  to  the  reading  public.  Or,  the  large  sale  of  a  book  may  be 
due  to  clever  exposition  of  a  political  situation,  due  to  the  use  of 
personal  references,  scandalous  or  otherwise.  Momentary  popu- 
larity, then,  the  best-seller  of  the  age,  does  not  predicate  Hterary 
immortality;  it  means  only  that  for  that  particular  moment  men 
found  the  work  of  interest.  On  the  other  hand,  enduring  literary 
reputation  means  that  many  men  throughout  the  centuries  find 
the  book  of  interest.  Clearly  the  chances  are  better  for  an  author 
to  arouse  the  interest  of  the  men  of  the  future  ages,  whom  he  does 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

not  know,  if  he  can  arouse  the  interest  of  the  men  of  his  own  age, 
whom  he  does  know.  As  human  nature  changes  slowly  the  inten- 
sity of  the  interest  will  be  about  proportionate.  This  may  of  course 
be  upset  by  local  conditions.  A  man  may  be  publishing  fine  work 
at  a  time  when  the  whole  strength  of  the  nation  is  devoted  to  ends 
the  reverse  of  literary.  Herrick's  Hesperides  appeared  in  1648, 
when  the  nation  was  distraught  with  political  dissension,  the  year 
before  the  execution  of  the  king.  Naturally  the  book  found  few 
readers  and  was  lost  in  the  confusion.  Or  a  writer  for  any  given 
reason  may  be  out  of  the  current  of  his  age.  Milton  retired  to  the 
country  for  six  years  to  surrender  himself  to  a  study  of  classic 
models.  For  an  age  that  wished  short  poems  exhibiting  intel- 
lectual agility,  he  wrote  long  poems,  slow  in  movement.  Naturally 
he  found  comparatively  few  readers.  In  an  age  which  believed 
in  authority,  he  wrote  a  poem  in  which  his  sympathy,  certainly,  is 
with  rebellion.  Again,  naturally,  he  found  few  readers.  But,  in 
general,  in  spite  of  the  common  view  to  the  contrary,  the  writer 
whose  work  posterity  acclaims,  has  been  accepted  as  great  by  the 
men  of  his  own  generation.  Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  Dryden,  Pope, 
Wordsworth,  Tennyson,  Browning,  each  before  his  death  was  ac- 
cepted as  a  great  poet.  Scott,  Dickens,  and  Thackeray, — no  one 
can  question  their  contemporary  popularity.  Each  was  regarded 
by  his  age  as  being  a  chosen  interpreter.  The  converse  of  the 
proposition  is  that  the  historian  of  Uterature,  who  expects  to  in- 
terpret the  age,  must  go  back  to  those  writers  particularly  who 
in  their  time  were  popular. 

Theoretically,  then,  if  the  past  and  the  present  of  any  writer  be 
known,  by  subtraction  we  should  be  able  to  understand  what  was 
his  contribution  to  the  literature  of  the  nation.  Today  such  an 
operation  is  exceedingly  diflficult.  Knowledge  is  so  widely  diffused, 
books  of  all  types  are  so  accessible,  libraries  are  so  numerous,  that 
the  past  of  any  individual  writer  is  almost  beyond  conjecture  ex- 
cept what  may  be  deduced  from  his  work.  And  equally  his  re- 
ception, except  in  a  very  few  cases,  is  a  matter  of  doubt.  As 
Brander  Matthews  says  somewhere,  it  is  no  longer  a  question  of 
a  reading  public,  but  reading  publics.  A  piece  of  work  may  be 
very  popular  in  one  locality  and  fail  completely  in  another.  The 
whole  woof  of  modem  society  is  so  complex  that  it  is  very  difficult 
to  see  the  pattern.    Still  more  difficult  is  it  to  estimate  correctly 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

what  elements  will  be  chosen  as  valuable  by  the  succeeding  ages. 
Therefore,  although  the  generalization  applies  now  as  it  has  applied 
in  the  past,  to  illustrate  it  one  must  go  back  to  the  past.  For  this 
purpose  the  literature  of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  is 
peculiarly  happy.  The  literary  past  of  the  men  is  made  com- 
paratively simple  since  there  is  a  partial  break  in  the  continuity, 
due  to  the  Wars  of  the  Roses  and  a  modification  of  the  language. 
In  this  part  of  our  literature,  consequently,  the  problems  are  simple 
and  it  is  possible  to  arrive  at  definite  solutions.  And  those  solu- 
tions are  important  because  upon  them  will  rest  the  interpretation 
of  the  great  literature  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth.  The  following  work 
aims  by  analysis  to  give  an  intellectual  comprehension  of  the 
conditions  which  caused  the  various  authors  to  write  as  they  did. 
The  question  always  before  the  reader  is  not,  How  did  they  write, 
but.  Why  did  they  write  in  such  a  form.  Surely  the  second  ques- 
tion is  clearly  answered,  if  he  can  be  given  a  comprehension  of 
their  aims  and  their  limitations;  if  he  can  be  put  back  to  a  state 
analogous  to  that  of  the  author's  time,  he  can  read  his  work  with 
a  fullness  of  emotional  sympathy  otherwise  impossible.  And  with 
the  knowledge  thus  gained  he  may  turn  to  Elizabethan  poetry 
with  the  same  fullness  of  understanding  that  a  friend  of  the  parents 
brings  to  the  son. 

So  the  interest  which  the  reader  is  invited  to  find  in  this  period 
is  two-fold:  first,  because  one  sees  here  the  beginnings  of  great 
work;  second,  because,  owing  to  the  partial  break  with  the  past, 
the  separate  strains  in  the  literature,  more  easily  than  in  other  pe- 
riods, can  be  submitted  to  analysis.  This  view  has  been  criticised 
adversely  as  "mechanical".  I  confess  that  I  do  not  see  the  jus- 
tice of  the  criticism.  History,  if  the  study  of  it  has  any  value 
whatsoever,  teaches  that  the  individual  is  merged  in  the  many. 
It  is  not  the  biography  of  great  men;  it  is  the  record  of  great  move- 
ments. The  history  of  England  is  not  in  the  fives  of  her  kings  and 
queens;  it  is  in  the  development  of  the  English  people,  in  which 
very  often  the  great  man  has  not  been  on  the  throne.  To  apply 
this  view  to  literature  can,  surely,  be  neither  new  nor  startling. 
It  does,  however,  bring  writers  into  fresh  juxtapositions.  For  in- 
stance, Heywood  as  a  follower  of  the  Medieval  Tradition,  or  Skel- 
ton  as  a  Medieval  Latinist,  may  cause  surprise.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  by  such  juxtaposition  the  significance  of  the  work  be- 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

comes  more  clearly  evident,  the  method  is  justified.  To  what 
extent  such  fresh  interpretation  is  sound,  the  reader  must  decide. 
Since  the  purpose  of  the  book  is  to  give  an  understanding  of 
the  Uterary  forces  in  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  and  how 
each  force  affected  the  individual  writer,  I  have  allowed  myself 
the  privilege  of  abundant  quotation.  Such  excerpts  are  in  the 
nature  of  documents  in  evidence.  They  are  the  facts  which  sup- 
port the  reasoning,  and,  as  such,  must  be  known  to  the  reader. 
I  have  had  the  less  hesitancy  in  doing  this,  however,  because  many 
of  the  books  from  which  the  quotations  are  taken  are  not  easily  ac- 
cessible; sometimes,  even  when  the  books  are  accessible,  in  the  effort 
to  make  my  position  clear,  I  have  quoted  passages,  instead  of  merely 
giving  the  references,  in  the  belief  that  the  time  of  the  student 
will  be  saved  thereby.  For  the  same  reason  I  have  omitted  a  gen- 
eral bibliography,  which  seems  to  me  both  pedantic  and  futile. 
In  a  subject  such  as  this,  which  includes  renaissance  works  in  six 
languages,  it  would  be  easy  to  create  the  impression  of  great  learn- 
ing. On  the  other  hand,  the  title  of  a  book  or  article  is  deceptive. 
It  may  contain  nothing  but  age-old  surmises  and  misinformation; 
or  it  may  be  the  most  profound  treatment  of  the  question.  And 
the  unhappy  student  dares  not  run  the  risk  of  neglecting  it.  There- 
fore, I  have  tried  to  indicate  in  my  notes  what  particular  value 
each  work  possesses.  And,  although  I  would  not  wish  to  make 
the  assumption  that  I  know  all  the  work  done  in  my  field, — hu- 
manly speaking  that  is  impossible, — the  works  noted  are  merely  a 
fraction  of  what  I  have  read,  the  ones  most  helpful  to  me.  As 
such  I  offer  them  as  a  guide  to  the  student.  My  great  fear  is  that 
I  have  used  work  and  have  not  acknowledged  it.  After  years  of 
reading  along  certain  lines,  the  mind  forgets  the  source  of  a  thought 
or  fact,  and  so  assimilates  the  idea  that  it  seems  original.  I  am 
afraid  that  such  a  condition  lias  occurred  in  my  work;  I  can  only 
plead  that  I  am  the  first  reader  to  be  deceived  and  that  corrections 
will  most  gratefully  be  acknowledged.  There  is  one  more  point  to 
be  added,  before  I  finish  this  explanation  of  the  mechanism  of  the 
book.  I  have  divided  it  into  six  monographs,  each  one  distinct 
and  able  to  be  read  as  a  whole.  The  gain  here  is  that  a  student 
of  a  particular  movement  will  find  that  treated  without  having  to 
wade  through  a  mass  of  preliminary  matter;  the  corresponding 
loss,  however,  is  that  a  certain  amount  of  repetition  is  unavoidable. 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

I  have  tried  to  reduce  the  amount  as  much  as  possible  by  means 
of  cross-references  and  a  full  index  both  of  the  work  and  to  the 
notes. 

Now  I  come  to  the  pleasant  task  of  acknowledging  the  very 
great  help  I  have  received  from  many  quarters.  The  particular 
places  where  aid  has  been  rendered  will,  I  trust,  be  found  recorded 
in  the  notes.  Here  I  wish  to  confess  to  a  debt  of  a  different  nature, 
general  rather  than  specific.  Many  of  my  friends  have  given  me 
the  advantage  of  airing  my  positions  before  them,  of  exposing  my 
ignorance  to  their  knowledge.  To  over-estimate  the  gain  to  this 
work  from  such  contact  would  be  impossible;  to  acknowledge  it  is 
mere  honesty.  On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  as  clearly  stated 
that  the  responsibility  for  the  various  heresies  contained  in  the 
following  pages  is  my  own;  sometimes  I  misunderstood  their  rea- 
sonings, sometimes  I  dared  to  disagree.  With  this  clear  under- 
standing that  the  guilt  is  mine,  I  take  pleasure  in  thanking  Pro- 
fessor Keller  for  his  suggestions  on  the  sociological  part  of  the 
work.  Professor  Goodell  for  helping  me  with  the  Greek,  and  Pro- 
fessor Morris  and  Professor  Hendrickson  for  their  untiring  kind- 
ness in  discussing  with  me  the  Latin  background.  To  these  last 
gentlemen  I  owe  much  more  than  mere  scholastic  gratitude  for 
the  warmth  of  the  encouragement.  Professor  Luquiens  must  have 
a  feeling  of  accomplishment  on  seeing  this  work  completed,  since 
he  has  put  so  much  of  his  energy  into  it.  For  such  kindness  I 
cannot  adequately  phrase  my  sense  of  indebtedness.  In  conclu- 
sion I  must  express  the  recognition  of  my  obligation  to  Mr.  Keogh 
and  the  officials  of  the  Yale  Library  who  put  the  resources  of  that 
great  institution  personally  at  my  disposal.  Professor  Bolton  of 
Syracuse  has  verified  my  references,  Mr.  Raymond  Jenkins  read 
part  of  the  manuscript,  and  Miss  Underwood  with  most  gracious 
patience  has  revised  the  proof.  I  hope  that  they  realize  how 
grateful  I  am. 

Finally  in  a  separate  paragraph  I  must  confess  that  from  the 
first  page  of  the  manuscript  to  the  last  page  of  the  proof  this 
work  has  passed  beneath  the  scrutinizing  eye  of  my  dear  wife. 
That  there  are  not  more  errors  in  diction  is  due  to  her  persist- 
ency.   But  she  should  receive  no  credit.     Is  it  not  her  book? 

J.  M.  B. 
Yale  University. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 

The  Backoround  to  the  Litehatube 1 

Four  main  Factors — (1)  Humaaism — The  contrast  between  the  Christian 
and  the  pagan  philosophy  of  life — Its  effect  in  art — On  living  conditions — 
In  entertainments — On  dress — On  jewelry — On  dining — On  morality — 
On  the  attitude  toward  children — On  the  attitude  toward  marriage — 
(2)  The  Copemican  system — The  medieval  conception  of  the  supernatu- 
ral— ^The  medieval  attitude  toward  nature — Sanitation  of  old  London — 
Disease — Remedies — Cheapness  of  death — (3)  The  geographic  dis- 
coveries— ^The  desire  for  communication  with  the  Far  East — The  diffusion 
of  this  idea — ^The  extension  of  it  in  practice — Its  effect  upon  literature — 
(4)  The  invention  of  printing — Fifteenth  century  England — Scanty 
population — Two  planes  of  literature — ^The  political  situation — Henry 
Vn — The  problems  arising  from  his  accession  to  the  throne — ^The  per- 
sonality of  Henry  VIII. 

CHAPTER  II 

The  Medieval  Tradition 48 

The  effect  upon  literature  of  the  historical  situation — ^The  change  in  pro- 
nunciation— The  diflSculty  in  writing — Chaucer  surviving  largely  by  his 
content — Lydgate  the  great  source  of  inspiration — The  formal  literary 
tradition — Its  characteristics — ^The  Flower  and  the  Leaf — The  Assembly 
of  Ladies — The  Court  of  Love — Its  language — Its  content — Stephen  Hawes 
— His  theory  of  poetry — The  Example  of  Virtue — The  Pastime  of  Pleas- 
ure— The  similarity  between  them — The  sources — The  Godfrey  Gobelive 
episode — The  romantic  elements — The  Comfort  of  Lovers — Hawes  verse 
experiments — His  reputation — Skelton — The  Bowge  of  Court — Its  con- 
creteness — Its  satire — His  relation  to  Barclay — ^The  interpretation  of  the 
allegory — Heywood — The  Spider  and  the  Flye — Its  characteristics — Its 
interpretation — The  use  of  comic  detail — The  use  of  the  dilemma — The 
use  of  alliteration — Pseudo-Chaucerian  influence. 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Scholastic  Tradition 120 

The  dominance  of  the  Church — The  familiarity  with  Medieval  Latin — Its 
extensive  use — The  medieval  poetics — Influence  on  English  for  the  form 
only — ^The  Colores — In  arrangement  of  words — Latin  tags — ^The  effect 


xviii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

upon  English  vocabulary — The  rithm — ^The  stanza  forms — The  Not- 
brovme  Mayde — Skelton — His  reading — His  humanism — His  lyrics — His 
use  of  Latin — The  Skelton ic  verse — Its  origin — His  satires — The  problem 
of  dating — His  loyalty — Colin  Clovi — His  attack  upon  Wolsey — Why 
Come  Ye  Not  to  Court? — The  continuation  of  Colin  Clout — The  Rejdy- 
cacion — ^The  theory  of  poetry — Its  dedication — Polemic  dialogues — A 
Proper  Dialogue — Rede  Me  and  Be  nott  Worthe — Phillip  Sparrow — Elynour 
Rummyng — Skelton  and  the  Humanists — London  Lickpenny — Cocke 
Lorrellea  Bote — The  Eye  Way  to  the  Spittal  Hous — Realism. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Humanism 230 

The  connotation  of  Humanism — Its  gradual  growth — Skelton  as  a  Human- 
ist— Italy  the  pioneer — Humanism  in  England — Alexander  Barclay — 
The  Eclogues — Ship  of  Fools — Mirror  of  Good  Manners — Henry  Brad- 
shaw — John  Heywood — Humanism  of  the  Oxford  group — Its  artificiality — 
Its  morality — Its  relation  to  the  Reformation — Sir  Thomas  More — 
Utopia — Its  modernity — Its  criticism — Its  intellectuality — Erasmus — 
His  feeling  toward  England — His  popularity — His  morality — His  ra- 
tionalism— CoUoquia — His  attitude  toward  reform — Humanism  versus 
Scholasticism  in  education — ^The  aim — ^The  three  great  theorists — The 
growth  of  the  movement  in  England — ^The  aim — Physical  exercise — 
Classic  heroes — Expurgations — ^The  effect  upon  English  literature — The 
effect  on  teaching — On  the  vernacular — Education  of  Women — English 
Verse  —  Tottel's  Miscellany  —  Wyatt  —  Uncertain  Authors  —  Nicholas 
Grimald — His  pedantry — Origin  of  blank  verse — Ascham  the  theorist  and 
Grimald  the  exponent. 

CHAPTER  V 

The  Influence  of  Contemporary  Literatures 361 

The  effect  of  Spanish  upon  English — Celestina — Lord  Bemers — Golden 
Book — Its  popularity — Its  content — Image  of  Governance — Sir  Francis 
Bryan — Dispraise  of  the  Life  of  a  Courtier — Germany — ^Trade  relations — 
Reformation — The  Assertio — Situation  in  England — Literary  results — 
Tyndale's  New  Testament — Supplicacyon  for  the  Beggars — More's  reply — 
The  polemic  dialogue — Rede  me  and  he  not  wrothe — Coverdale — Stemhold 
— ^The  jest  books — Salomon  and  Marcolphus — Van  Doesborgh — Laurens 
Andrewe — Parson  of  Kalenhorowe — Tyll  Hoideglas — Realism — France — 
The  effect  upon  the  language — Castle  of  Labour — Colyn  BlowhoTs  Testa- 
ment —  Jyl  of  Brentford's  Testament  —  Ballade  —  Rondeau  —  Clement 
Marot — The  Court — TotteVs  Miscellany — Wyatt — Italy — Wyatt — Uncer- 
tain Authors — The  prose — Morie  Darthur — Froissart — Huon  of  Burdeaux 
— Kalendayr  ofshyppards. 


CONTENTS  xix 

CHAPTER  VI 

PAGE 

Henbt  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey 504 

The  text  doubtful — Surrey's  rank — His  family  connections — His  char- 
acter— His  religious  feeling — His  death — "Fair  Geraldine" — Compared 
with  Wyatt — His  language — Marot — Uncertain  Authors — His  medieval- 
ism— Psalms — Vergil — Blank  verse — Summary. 


EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 
1485-1547 


EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   BACKGROUND   TO   THE   LITERATURE 

That  which  separates  peoples,  far  more  than  geographical 
boundaries  or  "the  unplumbed,  salt,  estranging  sea,"  is  the  basic 
philosophy  that  underlies  their  national  life,  the  unwritten  as- 
sumptions that,  like  axioms  in  geometry,  are  accepted  without 
the  need  of  proof.  The  diflSculty  of  the  difference  in  language  may 
be  surmounted.  The  denotation  of  a  word  is  given  in  any  diction- 
ary; it  is  the  connotation  which  counts.  An  American  may  learn 
to  speak  Turkish,  but  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  think  Uke  a  Turk 
because  he  is  an  American.  If  this  be  true  today  when  personal 
contact  is  possible,  it  is  still  more  true  in  dealing  with  the  languages 
of  the  past.  Words  at  best  are  tricky  instruments,  and  Marlowe, 
that  great  master  of  self-expression,  complains  of  their  inadequacy. 
Yet  to  his  contemporaries  his  mighty  line  must  have  come  charged 
with  a  fullness  of  meaning  that  we  can  only  guess  at,  and  it  is 
probable  that  no  one  would  be  more  surprised  at  the  elucidations 
of  the  commentators  than  Shakespeare  himself.  To  comprehend 
a  poem  written  three  hundred  years  ago  requires  creative  imag- 
ination. The  negative  part  of  such  creation  is  not  difficult.  It 
is  not  difficult  to  strip  the  world  of  steam,  electricity  and  gasoline 
and  to  picture  to  ourselves  the  result.  But  positively  for  the 
modem  American  to  adopt  the  point  of  view  of  the  sixteenth 
century  Englishman,  to  see  that  life  unmodified  either  by  the 
glamour  of  romanticism  or  by  the  working  of  his  own  personal 
equation,  and  fully  to  appreciate  the  unconscious  and  unexpressed 
motives  for  their  actions,  is  impossible.  Nevertheless  the  degree 
of  our  success  in  achieving  this  impossibility  measures  the  value 
of  our  literary  judgments. 

An  attempt  at  least  to  realize  this  ideal  is  essential  in  dealing 
with  works  composed  during  an  age  of  transition.    As  the  term 

1 


2  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

"age  of  transition"  implies,  living  conditions  are  in  a  flux  and 
ideas  of  the  outworn  past  jostle  ideas  of  the  yet  unborn  future. 
History  is  not  the  record  of  battles  and  of  murders,  of  kings  or  of 
councils, — rather  is  it  the  study  of  the  modifications  of  the  social 
fabric  resulting  from  new  thoughts.  As  the  body  politic  is  com- 
posed of  many  individuals,  so  these  modifying  thoughts  come  not 
from  one  but  from  many.  And  it  is  a  slow  process.  Take,  for 
example,  the  discovery  of  gunpowder.  Probably  not  many  ideas 
have  more  completely  revolutionized  human  society.  It  made 
for  democracy,  since  the  armed  peasant  became  the  equal  of  the 
mailed  knight.  Feudalism,  based  as  it  was  upon  the  defensive 
power  of  armor,  with  its  fundamental  conception  of  innate  su- 
periority, was  thus  doomed.  The  application  of  this  discovery 
extends  over  centuries.  Writing  in  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth 
century  Roger  Bacon  gave  the  formula  for  the  composition  of 
gunpowder,  yet  in  the  sixteenth  century  Henry  VIII  held  his 
jousts  and  his  tournaments  and  encouraged  the  practice  in  the 
use  of  the  long  bow.  But  the  discovery  of  gunpowder,  shaking 
though  it  did  the  very  framework  of  human  society,  was  only  one 
of  a  number  of  factors  that  silently,  slowly,  inevitably  remodelled 
the  human  spirit.  The  revival  of  an  interest  in  the  civilizations 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  the  substitution  of  the  Copernican  for  the 
Ptolemaic  system  of  astronomy,  the  extension  of  geographical 
knowledge,  and  the  invention  of  printing  with  movable  type, 
each  aided  in  transforming  the  medieval  into  the  modern  man.  Of 
this  change  the  literature  is  the  record.  It  shows  the  continued 
struggle  to  force  the  old  medieval  forms  to  express  the  new 
Renaissance  conceptions,  to  charge  the  old  bottles  with  new  wine, 
and  the  slow  evolution  of  suitable  forms.  The  old  and  the  new 
are  here  intermingled.    It  is  an  age  of  transition. 

The  first  of  these  mental  factors  is  the  apparently  insignificant 
revival  of  the  study  of  the  classic  literatures.  The  Latin  language, 
of  course,  had  never  been  forgotten;  it  was  used  in  the  Church; 
to  a  certain  extent,  Roman  writers  were  read  in  every  age  and,  to 
a  still  less  extent,  imitated.  But  the  effect  of  a  book  depends  upon 
the  spirit  in  which  it  is  read.  It  is  one  thing  to  know  Vergil  and 
Ovid  as  entertaining  pagans  outside  the  pale,  to  search  their  works 
for  prophetical  intimations  of  the  coming  of  Christianity,  and  to 
allegorize  their  poems  into  Christian  myths,  and  quite  another 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE         3 

to  accept  them  reverently  as  masters.  The  medieval  Vergil  is  not 
even  the  Dantesque  shade.  He  was  remembered  rather  as  the 
undignified  wizard  of  the  fabliaux  and  admiration  for  him  found 
expression  in  the  sortes  Vergilianae.  This  monstrous  conception 
of  Vergil  appears  in  English  as  late  as  1520.  But,  in  general,  the 
fourteenth  century  witnessed  a  change  in  the  point  of  view.  This 
change  is  associated  with  the  revival  of  the  study  of  Greek,  and 
may  be  said  to  have  begun  when  Petrarch  in  his  old  age  began 
the  reading  of  Homer.  It  is  difficult  for  the  modern  student  to 
grasp  the  importance  of  this  introduction  of  the  classic  philosophy 
of  living.  To  us  there  is  no  novelty  in  the  classic  point  of  view; 
translations  of  all  the  principal  writers  abound;  and,  moreover, 
for  the  past  four  hundred  years  modern  literatures  have  assimilated 
and  discussed  the  leading  tenets  of  classic  thought  to  so  great  a 
degree  that  on  reading  the  original  author  we  are  already  neces- 
sarily familiar  with  the  general  conceptions  and  our  attention  is 
held  only  by  the  comparatively  minor  points.  And  the  case  is, 
as  it  were,  judged  before  it  is  brought  into  court.  It  requires, 
therefore,  an  effort  of  the  imagination  for  us  to  conceive  an  age 
when  this  thought,  so  familiar  to  us,  had  all  the  charm  of  novelty 
and  when  a  knowledge  of  Greek  connoted  radical  thinking  in 
matters  religious  and  political.  For  the  antipodal  contrast  be- 
tween Christian  and  pagan  ideals  in  one  respect  must  be  remem- 
bered. During  the  Middle  Ages  the  stress  was  laid,  not  upon  this 
life,  but  upon  the  next.  Even  from  the  beginning  the  promise 
implied  in  the  fact  of  the  Resurrection  was  one  of  the  main  causes 
for  the  spread  of  Christianity.  This  was  further  amplified  by  the 
belief  in  the  millenium,  common  in  the  first  four  centuries  and 
appearing  sporadically  later.  The  second  coming  of  the  Saviour, 
so  fiercely  anticipated  by  TertuUian,  logically  transfers  the  interest 
from  the  merely  temporal  concerns  of  this  life  to  the  all-engrossing 
subject  of  the  eternal  life.  Such  is  still  the  attitude  of  many  of 
our  hymns,  especially  those  adapted  from  the  Latin,  that  death 
with  its  prospect  of  heaven  brings  a  happy  release  from  earthly 
woe. 

Brief  life  is  here  our  portion; 

Brief  sorrow,  short-lived  care; 
The  life  that  knows  no  ending. 

The  tearless  life  is  there. 


4  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Oh  happy  retribution! 

Short  toil,  eternal  rest. 
For  mortals  and  for  sinners, 

A  mansion  with  the  blest.' 

There  is  no  need  to  multiply  illustrations.  The  medieval  hymnol- 
ogy  teaches  that  this  world  is  a  temporary  place  of  trial,  that  it 
is  a  battle-ground,  that  we  are  pilgrims  journeying  to  our  eternal 
home  where  the  faithful  will  be  recompensed. 

Nunc  tribulatio; 
Tunc  recreatio, 

Sceptra,  coronse; 
Tunc  nova  gloria 
Pectora  sobria 

Clarificabit, 
Solvet  senigmata, 
Veraque  sabbata 

Continuabit. 
Patria  splendida, 
Terraque  florida. 

Libera  spinis, 
Danda  fidelibus 
Est  ibi  civibus 

Hie  peregrinis. 

That  such  an  extreme  was  practiced  by  society  at  large  at  any 
time  is,  of  course,  untrue;  it  would  imply  the  cessation  of  the 
business  of  living,  and  during  the  middle  ages,  as  in  every  other 
age,  men  were  chiefly  occupied  by  their  petty  private  concerns. 
Yet  it  was  (and  is)  realized  in  some  religious  establishments  and 
was  held  as  an  ideal  by  the  world  in  general,  and  affected  every 
human  relationship.  Care  of  the  body  was  considered  as  a  con- 
cession to  the  weakness  of  the  flesh;  the  love  of  parents,  home, 
wife,  country,  or  the  approbation  of  the  community  was  regarded, 
theoretically  at  least,  as  a  distraction  from  the  pursuit  of  the 
highest  life.    This  may  be  illustrated  by  the  life  of  Saint  Alexis. 

'  Hie  breve  vivitur,  O  retributio! 

Hie  breve  plangitur,  Stat  brevis  actio. 

Hie  breve  fletur;  Vita  perennis; 

Non  breve  vivere,  O  retributio! 

Non  breve  plangere,  Cselica  mansio 

Retribuetur;  Stat  lue  plenb  .  .  . 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE  5 

To  free  himself  from  all  earthly  attachments,  Alexis  abandoned 
on  his  wedding  night  his  wife,  his  parents  and  his  country;  having 
been  made  abbot  for  his  austerities,  he  again  abandoned  his  re- 
sponsibilities; at  last  for  the  sake  of  greater  humiliation  he  Uved 
as  a  mendicant  in  his  father's  palace;  and  at  his  death  he  was 
miraculously  recognized  as  a  saint.  The  teaching  is  that,  although 
such  a  life  is  not  possible  for  all,  it  is  beautiful  and  pleasing  to  God. 
The  external  manifestation  of  such  philosophy  is  shown  in  the 
dominance  of  the  religious  element  in  architecture  and  in  art;  the 
internal,  in  the  essentially  Christian  virtues  of  humility  and  self- 
sacrifice  and  in  an  introspective  and  subjective  mental  attitude. 
By  the  Greeks,  on  the  other  hand,  immortality  was  conceived  in 
terms  of  this  life;  in  some  vague  way  it  was  a  continuation  and 
prolongation  of  this  Ufe.  The  Orpheus  and  Eurydice  story,  and 
perhaps  the  Eleusinian  mysteries,  indicate  a  belief  in  a  life  here- 
after. The  Phaedo  of  Plato  discusses  it.  But  there  is  no  radical 
difference  in  the  conception  of  the  two  existences.  In  classic 
poetry  the  future  is  presented  as  a  shadowy  place  of  doubtful 
ghosts.  Death  is  merely  an  inevitable  evil.  It  was  the  present 
that  was  important,  and  man's  relation  to  his  fellow  men  in  the 
world  about  him.  Attention  was  directed  not  to  the  individual 
but  to  the  community.  As  the  cathedral  expresses  a  typical 
phase  of  the  middle  ages,  so  the  agora,  or  forum,  represents  the 
classic  civilization.  Civic  consciousness  existed  in  a  far  higher 
degree  than  in  the  later  age.  And  the  Londoner,  or  Parisian,  of 
1500  found  in  the  Rome  of  Augustus  a  civilization  much  more 
complex  and  elaborately  organized  than  any  with  which  he  was 
familiar.  Constant  contact  with  humanity,  however  it  may 
dull  the  sensibilities,  drives  away  morbid  introspection.  Owing 
to  this  fact  classic  writing  has  been  characterized  as  possessing 
"the  two  noblest  of  things,  sweetness  and  light."  Classic  thought 
is  unconscious  of  self  and  objective.  Eudaimonism  is  the  ethical 
basis,  that  is,  well-being  in  this  Ufe;  and  many  found  this  well-being 
in  sensual  indulgence.  As  the  pagan  and  Christian  philosophies 
are  thus  opposed,  the  revived  interest  in  the  former  brought  with 
it  profound  modifications  in  the  whole  social  structure  of  the 
latter,' — the  greater  the  interest  the  more  profound  the  change. 

'  The  importance  of  the  change  is  thus  signalized  by  Karl  Fedem:  Die  Welt  war 
ein  Jammerthal,  ein  Udes  Gebiet  des  Elends  und  schwerer  PrtifUngcn.    Die  Ausbil- 


6  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Discussions  arose,  doubts  were  bom,  and  conventionalities  were 
shattered  in  the  conflict  of  these  two  antagonistic  forces.  Moved 
by  the  one,  the  Borgian  orgies  revived  the  lusts  of  imperial  Rome; 
in  reaction,  Martin  Luther  started  the  Reformation;  and  between 
them,  attracted  by  both  and  rej>elled  by  both,  wavered  Erasmus, 
in  his  own  person  summing  up  the  unrest  of  the  age. 

The  first  result  was  an  immense  increase  in  appreciation  of 
physical  beauty.  The  loveUness  of  hne  of  a  perfect  column  and 
the  smooth  ripple  of  muscle  beneath  the  skin  filled  the  men  of  the 
Renaissance  with  delight.  As  social  conditions  became  more 
settled,  the  house  was  regarded  as  a  home,  rather  than  as  a  fortress, 
and  was  adorned  with  loving  care.  Graceful  festoons  draped  the 
windows  and  the  chimneys  flowered  in  fantasy.  The  beautiful 
simplicity  of  the  Doge's  palace  faces  the  decorous  richness  of 
Sansovino's  Library.  The  grimness  of  Loche  is  exchanged  for  the 
lightness  of  Blois  and  the  frostwork  of  Chambord.  Ghiberti 
dreams  his  doors  and  Bramante  his  domes.  The  Bysantine  rigidity 
of  Cimabue  and  the  statuesque  grouping  of  Giotto  develop  into 
the  richness  of  Titian,  the  tenderness  of  Raphael,  the  strength  of 
Michelangelo,  the  subtilty  of  Leonardo  and  the  interpretative  skill 
of  Holbein.  And  where  before  Art  was  the  hand-maiden  of  the 
Church,  now  all  life  became  her  province  and  Giorgione  paganizes 
in  the  mellow  Fete  Champetre.^  Thus  they  looked  at  the  world 
with  the  creative  eye  and  behold!  it  was  very  good. 

The  same  impulse  found  expression  also  in  the  trivialities  of 
everyday  life.  Just  as  the  temptation  of  the  Renaissance  artists 
was  for  multiplicity  of  detail  and  over-ornamentation,  so  in  minor 
matters,  in  house-furnishing  and  table  decoration,  the  fault  lay  in 
a  lack  of  restraint.  A  gorgeous  lavishness  became  characteristic 
of  the  period,  although  we  catch  only  faint  reflects  of  the  splendid 
background  in  the  literature.  To  be  interpreted  by  the  gray 
modem  mind  these  writings  must  be  read  with  the  understanding 
that  in  the  thought  of  both  author  and  contemporary  audience 

dung  solcher  Anschauungen  musste  durch  den  schrechlichen  Zustand  befordert 
werden:  die  Welt  war  in  diesen  Jahrhunderten  wirklich  ein  Jammerthal;  und  sie 
verloren  ihre  Macht  mit  dem  Augenblick,  wo  die  Zustande  sich  besserten  und  die 
Menschen  sich  wieder  des  Lebens  zu  freuen  anfiengen.    Dante,  &-10. 

^  Like  so  many  other  pictures  given  to  Giorgione,  the  attribution  of  this  to  him 
has  been  vehemently  denied. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE  7 

there  was  this  elaborate  richness  of  daily  life.  Probably  the  extreme 
example  is  to  be  found  in  Cardinal  Wolsey's  country  seat  at  Hamp- 
ton Court.  Moreover,  since  we  have  the  inventory  of  the  furnish- 
ings when  the  palace  was  given  to  the  King  and  since  Hampton 
Court  itself  is  still  not  changed  beyond  all  recognition,  it  is  possible 
to  reconstruct  the  mise  en  scene  of  the  great  Cardinal.  Everything 
was  on  a  large  scale.  ^  There  were  two  hundred  and  eight  guest 
rooms,  each  with  "a  bason  and  a  ewer  of  silver,  some  gilt  and 
some  parcel  gilt,  and  some  two  great  pots  of  silver  in  like  manner, 
and  one  pot  at  the  least  with  wine  and  beer,  a  bowl  or  goblet,  and  a 
silver  pot  to  drink  beer  in;  a  silver  candlestick  or  two,  with  both 
white  lights  and  yellow  lights  of  three  sizes  of  wax;  and  a  staff 
torch;  a  fine  manchet,  and  a  chet-loaf  of  bread."  "  The  beds  were 
hung  with  red,  green,  or  russet  velvet,  or  satin,  or  silk,  or  sarcenet, 
and  elaborately  carved  "with  fowls  and  beasts  having  banners 
about  their  neck  with  the  arms  of  England  and  France,"  '  or  with 
the  imagery  of  children  playing  in  the  water;  two  trussing  beds 
were  of  alabaster.  In  the  list,  chair  follows  chair,  carved  and 
gilded,  with  cushions  of  embroideries  and  tapestry.  There  were 
forty-five  pairs  of  brass  or  wrought  iron  andirons.  The  walls  were 
hung  with  tapestries.  To  acquire  a  suflScient  number  agents  ran- 
sacked the  continent.  In  1520,  for  example.  Sir  Thomas  Gresham 
was  ordered  to  take  the  measure  for  eighteen  rooms,  and  yet  in 
December,  1522,  Wolsey  bought  twenty-one  complete  sets,  con- 
sisting of  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  pieces.  Such  ostentatious 
profusion  at  any  time  indicates  the  parvenu,  but  here,  when  the 
parvenu  is  a  cardinal,  it  also  indicates  a  change  in  Christian  ideals. 
For  this  love  of  display  there  is  another  explanation  beside  that 
of  personal  gratification.  In  an  age  when  comparatively  few  could 
read,  the  appeal  had  to  be  visual  to  bring  home  to  the  people  the 
importance  of  any  event.  This  is  the  logical  reason  for  corona- 
tion processions,  ambassadorial  receptions,  masques,  etc.  The  ex- 
tent to  which  any  circumstance  affected  the  nation  was  signified 
by  the  outward  splendor  accompanying  it.    The  magnificence  of 

*  These  details  are  taken  principally  from  The  History  of  Hampton  Courts  by 
Ernest  Law,  London,  1890.   2nd  ed. 

«  Calendars  of  State  Papers,  Venetian,  vol.  15*7-33,  No.  205.  From  the  Sanvdo 
Diaries,  vol.  xlvi.,  p.  264.    Quoted  by  Law,  ibid.,  vol.  i,  109-110. 

*Ibid. 


8  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Wolsey's  establishment  was  a  political  measure.  The  crosses  and 
pillars  borne  before  him  were  the  visible  expression  of  power  of  a 
servant  of  the  king.  The  forms  and  ceremonies  attendant  upon 
the  arrival  of  the  cardinal's  hat  expressed  to  the  multitude  the 
importance  of  the  new  dignity.  The  grandeur  of  Wolsey's  state 
was  not  then  merely  a  personal  love  of  display,  nor  do  the  pages 
in  Hall's  Chronicle  devoted  to  detailed  description  of  festivities 
argue  naive  admiration  on  the  part  of  the  chronicler.  In  an  age 
when  there  were  no  editorials  and  no  inspired  articles,  the  signi- 
ficant events  were  signalized  by  appeals  to  the  inherent  dramatic 
instinct.  This  may  be  illustrated  by  the  long  account  of  the  cele- 
bration of  the  French  alliance  in  1527  as  given  by  the  Italian 
Secretary  Spinelli.  Politically,  it  was  an  event  of  major  impor- 
tance, the  union  of  France  and  England  against  the  conquering 
arms  of  Spain.  At  home,  it  meant  the  triumph  of  the  party  of 
Anne  Boleyn,  with  all  that  that  implies.  The  pictorial  representa- 
tion of  this  importance  is  as  follows.^ 

On  the  fourth  instant  all  the  ambassadors,  with  the  exception  of  the  Emperor's, 
were  summoned  to  Greenwich;  where,  in  the  presence  of  the  King  and  the  chief 
personages  of  the  Court,  the  French  ambassador,  the  Bishop  of  Tarbes,  delivered  an 
oration,  which  was  answered  by  the  Bishop  of  London;  who  on  the  morrow.  Car- 
dinal Wolsey  being  unable  to  officiate  from  indisposition,  sang  mass  with  the 
usual  ceremonies,  after  which  at  the  high  altar,  where  the  missal  was  opened  by  the 
Cardinal,  the  French  ambassadors  swore  in  his  hands  to  observe  the  perpetual  peace 
now  concluded  with  the  King  of  England,  he  on  his  part  swearing  in  like  manner. 

Two  of  the  ambassadors,  namely,  the  prelate  and  the  soldier,  dined  with  the 
King,  the  others  dining  apart  together. 

On  rising  from  the  table  they  went  to  the  Queen's  apartment,  where  the  Princess 
danced  with  the  French  ambassador,  the  Viscount  of  Turenne,  who  considered  her 
very  handsome  and  admirable  by  reason  of  her  great  and  uncommon  mental  en- 
dowments, but  so  thin,  spare,  and  small  as  to  render  it  impossible  for  her  to  be 
married  for  the  next  three  years. 

Then  yesterday  there  was  a  joust,  the  challengers  at  the  tilt  being  four,  the  com- 
petitors being  sixteen,  each  of  whom  ran  six  courses;  a  very  delectable  sight,  by 
reason  of  the  prowess  of  the  knights.  The  joust  ended  with  the  day,  not  without 
rain,  which  rather  impeded  the  jousting. 

The  King  and  Queens,  with  some  200  damsels,  then  went  to  the  apartments 
which  I  informed  you  in  a  former  letter  were  being  prepared  on  one  side  of  the  tilt 
yard  at  Greenwich  for  the  reception  of  the  French  ambassadors,  the  rest  of  the 
company  following  them.  The  site  adjoined  the  other  chambers,  from  whence  the 
King  and  the  nobility  view  the  jousts.  There  were  but  two  halls,  about  thirty 
paces  in  length,  and  of  proportional  height  and  breadth.    The  centre  of  the  ceiling 

1  Brewer,  History  of  the  Reign  of  Henry  VIII,  2,  151. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE  9 

of  the  first  hall  was  entirely  covered  with  brocatel,  of  no  great  value,  but  producing 
a  good  effect.  The  walls  were  hung  with  the  most  costly  tapestry  in  England, 
representing  the  history  of  David;  and  there  was  a  row  of  torches  closely  set, 
illuminating  the  place  very  brilliantly,  being  ranged  below  the  windows,  which 
were  at  no  great  distance  from  the  roof.  The  royal  table  was  prepared  in  front  of 
the  hall,  with  a  large  canopy  of  tissue,  beneath  which  was  the  King,  with  the 
Queens,  his  wife  and  sister,  at  the  sides.  Then  came  two  long  tables;  at  one  end  of 
which,  on  the  right-hand  side  were  seated  the  French  ambassador  and  the  Princess, 
each  pairing  with  some  great  lady.  At  the  other  table,  to  the  left,  the  Venetian 
ambassador  and  the  one  from  Milan,  placed  themselves,  with  the  rest  of  the  lords 
and  ladies.  At  no  great  distance  from  the  two  tables  were  two  cupboards,  reaching 
from  the  floor  to  the  roof,  forming  a  semicircle,  on  which  was  a  large  and  varied 
assortment  of  vases,  all  of  massive  gold,  the  value  of  which  it  would  be  difficult  to 
estimate;  nor  were  any  of  them  touched;  silver-gilt  dishes  of  another  sort  being  used 
for  the  viands  of  meat  and  fish,  which  were  in  such  variety  and  abundance  that  the 
banquet  lasted  a  long  while. 

The  door  of  this  hall  was  in  the  form  of  a  very  lofty  triumphal  arch,  fashioned 
after  the  antique,  beneath  which  were  three  vaulted  entrances.  Through  one 
passed  the  dishes  for  the  table;  through  the  other  they  were  removed;  and  on  each 
side  of  the  centre  one,  which  was  the  largest,  stood  two  enormous  cupboards  bearing 
wine  to  be  served  at  table.  Over  the  triumphal  arch  was  a  spacious  balcony  for  the 
musicians,  bearing  the  arms  of  the  King  and  Queen,  with  sundry  busts  of  Emperors, 
and  the  King's  motto,  "Dieu  et  mon  droit,"  and  other  Greek  words.  Could  never 
conceive  anything  so  costly  and  well  designed  as  what  was  witnessed  that  night  at 
Greenwich. 

On  ri»ng  from  table  all  were  marshalled,  according  to  their  rank,  along  a  corridor 
of  no  great  length,  to  the  other  hall,  which  was  of  rather  less  size  than  the  first.  The 
floor  was  covered  with  cloth  of  silk  embroidered  with  gold  lilies.  The  ceiling, 
which  was  well-night  flat,  was  all  painted,  representing  a  map  of  the  world,  the 
names  of  the  principal  provinces  being  legible;  there  were  also  the  signs  of  the 
zodiac  and  their  properties,  these  paintings  being  supported  by  giants.  Along  the 
sides  of  the  hall  were  three  tiers  of  seats,  each  of  which  had  a  beam  placed  length- 
wise for  the  sjjectators  to  lean  on,  nor  did  one  tier  interfere  with  the  other.  Above 
these  tiers  were  in  like  manner  three  rows  of  torches,  so  well  disposed  and  contrived 
as  not  to  impede  the  view. 

Within  the  space  for  the  spectators,  on  the  right-hand  side  in  the  first  tier,  the 
ambassadors  were  placed;  in  the  second,  the  Princes;  in  the  third,  those  to  whom 
admission  was  granted,  they  being  few.  On  the  opposite  side,  in  the  same  order, 
were  the  ladies;  whose  various  styles  and  apparel,  enhanced  by  the  brilliancy  of  the 
lights,  caused  me  to  think  I  was  contemplating  the  choir  of  angels,  they  in  like 
manner,  being  placed  one  above  the  other.  Two-thirds  of  the  distance  down  the 
hall  an  arch  of  a  single  span  had  been  erected,  its  depth  being  five  feet  and  a  half 
(English  measure),  all  gilt  with  fine  gold,  the  inside  of  the  arch  being  decorated  with 
a  number  of  beautiful  figures  in  low  relief.  The  magnificence  of  this  arch  was  such 
that  it  was  difficult  to  comprehend  how  so  grand  a  structure  could  have  been  raised 
in  so  short  a  space  of  time.  In  the  centre  to  the  front  stood  the  royal  throne,  on 
which  the  King  sat,  the  two  Queens  being  seated  below  at  his  feet. 


10  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

AU  the  spectators  being  thus  methodically  placed,  without  the  least  noise  or 
confusion,  and  precisely  as  pre-arranged,  the  entertainment  commenced.  One 
thing  above  all  others  surprised  me  most,  never  having  witnessed  the  like  anywhere, 
it  being  impossible  to  represent  or  credit  with  how  much  order,  regularity,  and 
silence  such  public  entertainments  proceed  and  are  conducted  in  England.  First  of 
all,  there  entered  the  hall  eight  singers,  forming  two  wings,  and  singing  certain 
English  songs;  in  their  centre  was  a  very  handsome  youth  alone,  clad  in  sky  blue 
taffety,  a  number  of  eyes  being  scattered  over  his  gown;  and  having  presented  them- 
selves before  the  King,  the  singers  then  withdrew  in  the  same  order,  there  remain- 
ing by  himself  the  youth,  in  the  disguise  of  Mercury,  sent  to  the  King  by  Jupiter, 
deUvered  a  learned  Latin  oration  in  praise  of  his  Majesty;  which  panegyric  being 
ended,  he  announced  that  Jupiter,  having  frequently  listened  to  disputes  between 
love  and  riches,  concerning  their  relative  authority,  and  being  unable  to  decide  the 
controversy,  he  appointed  his  Majesty  as  judge,  and  requested  him  to  pronounce 
and  pass  sentence  on  both  of  them.  Thereupon  Mercury  departed;  and  next  came 
eight  young  choristers  of  the  chapel,  foiu-  on  each  side;  those  to  the  right  were  all 
clad  in  cloth  of  gold,  much  ornamented,  and  the  first  of  them  was  Cupid;  the  others 
to  the  left  were  variously  arrayed,  and  their  chief  was  Plutus.  In  the  centre  walked 
one  alone  in  the  guise  of  Justice,  who  sang. 

In  this  order  they  presented  themselves  to  the  Bang,  before  whom  Justice  com- 
menced narrating  the  dispute  between  the  parties  in  English,  and  desired  Cupid  to 
begin  with  his  defence;  to  which  Plutus  replied;  each  of  the  choristers  on  either  side 
defending  their  leaders  by  reciting  a  number  of  verses.  The  altercation  being 
ended,  Cupid  and  Plutus  determined  that  judgment  should  go  by  battle;  and  thus, 
having  departed,  three  men-at-arms  in  white  armour,  with  three  naked  swords  in 
their  hands,  entered  from  the  end  of  the  hall,  and  having  drawn  up  imder  the 
triumphal  arch,  an  opening  was  made  in  its  centre  by  some  unseen  means,  and  out 
of  the  arch  fell  down  a  bar,  in  front  of  which  there  appeared  three  well-armed 
knights.  The  combat  then  commenced  valiantly,  man  to  man,  some  of  them  dealing 
such  blows  that  their  swords  broke.  After  they  had  fought  some  while  a  second 
bar  was  let  down,  which  separated  them,  the  first  three  having  vanquished  the 
others,  fighting  with  great  courage;  and  the  duel  being  thus  ended,  the  combatants 
quitted  the  hall  in  like  manner  as  they  had  entered  it.  Thereupon  there  fell  to  the 
ground,  at  the  extremity  of  the  hall,  a  painted  canvas  (curtain)  from  an  aperture, 
in  which  was  seen  a  most  verdant  cave,  approachable  by  four  steps,  each  side  being 
guarded  by  four  of  the  chief  gentleman  of  the  Court,  clad  in  tissue  doublets  and 
tall  pliunes,  each  of  whom  carried  a  torch.  Well  grouped  within  the  cave  were 
eight  damsels,  of  such  rare  beauty  as  to  be  supposed  goddesses  rather  than  human 
beings.  They  were  arrayed  in  cloth  of  gold,  their  hair  gathered  into  a  net,  with  a 
very  richly  jewelled  garland,  surmounted  by  a  velvet  cap,  the  hanging  sleeves  of 
their  surcoats  being  so  long  that  they  well-nigh  touched  the  ground,  and  so  well  and 
richly  wrought  as  to  be  no  slight  ornament  to  their  beauty.  They  descended 
gracefully  from  their  seats  to  the  sound  of  tnmipets,  the  first  of  them  being  the 
Princess,  hand  in  hand  with  the  Marchioness  of  Exeter.  Her  beauty  in  this  array 
produced  such  an  effect  on  everybody  that  all  the  other  marvellous  sights  pre- 
viously witnessed  were  forgotten,  and  they  gave  themselves  up  solely  to  contempla- 
tion of  so  fair  an  angel.    On  her  person  were  so  many  precious  stones  that  her 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        11 

splendour  and  radiance  dazzled  the  sight  in  such  wise  as  to  make  one  believe  that 
she  was  decked  with  all  the  gems  of  the  eighth  sphere.  Dancing  thus,  they  pre- 
sented themselves  to  the  King,  their  dance  being  very  delightful  by  reason  of  its 
variety,  as  they  formed  certain  groups  and  figiu^s  most  pleasing  to  the  sight.  Their 
dance  being  finished,  they  ranged  with  themselves  on  one  side;  and  in  like  order  the 
eight  youths,  leaving  their  torches,  came  down  from  the  cave,  and  after  jjerforming 
their  dance,  each  of  them  took  by  the  hand  one  of  those  beautiful  nymphs,  and, 
having  led  a  courant  together  for  a  while,  returned  to  their  places. 

Six  masks  then  entered.  To  detail  their  costume  would  be  but  to  repeat  the 
words,  "cloth  of  gold,"  "cloth  of  silver,"  etc.  They  chose  such  ladies  as  they 
pleased  for  their  partners,  and  commenced  various  dances;  which  being  ended,  the 
King  appeared.  The  French  ambassador,  the  Marquis  of  Turenne,  was  at  his  side, 
and  behind  him  four  couple  of  noblemen  all  masked,  and  all  wearing  black  velvet 
slippers  on  their  feet;  this  being  done  lest  the  King  should  be  distinguished  from  the 
others;  as,  from  a  hurt  which  he  lately  received  on  his  left  foot  when  playing  at 
tennis,  he  wears  a  black  velvet  slipper.  They  were  all  clad  in  tissue  doublets,  over 
which  was  a  very  long  and  ample  gown  of  black  satin,  with  hoods  of  the  same 
material,  and  on  their  heads  caps  of  tawny  velvet.  They  then  took  by  the  hand  an 
equal  number  of  ladies,  dancing  with  great  glee,  and  at  the  end  of  the  dance  un- 
masked; whereuik>n  the  Princess  with  her  companions  again  descended,  and  came 
to  the  King,  who,  in  the  presence  of  the  French  ambassadors,  took  ofif  her  cap,  and, 
the  net  being  displaced,  a  profusion,  of  silver  tresses,  as  beautiful  as  ever  were  seen 
on  human  head,  fell  over  her  shoulders,  forming  a  most  agreable  sight.  The  afore- 
said ambassadors  then  took  leave  of  her;  and  all  departing  from  that  beautiful 
place  returned  to  the  supi>er  hall,  where  the  tables  were  spread  with  every  sort  of 
confection  and  choice  wines  for  all  who  chose  to  cheer  themselves  with  them.  The 
sun,  I  believe,  greatly  hastened  his  course,  having,  perhaps,  had  a  hint  from  Mer- 
cury of  so  rare  a  sight.  So  showing  himself  already  on  the  horizon,  warning  being 
thus  given  of  his  presence,  everybody  thought  it  time  to  quit  the  royal  chambers, 
returning  to  their  own  with  such  sleepy  eyes  that  the  daylight  could  not  keep  them 
open. 

However  stupid  may  seem  to  us  the  reading  of  such  a  description, 
the  account  deserves  careful  consideration  from  the  fact  that  the 
shrewdest  state  in  Europe  required  that  it  be  so  circumstantial. 
The  reverend  seniors  of  the  Doge's  council  did  not  find  these  de- 
tails trivial.  It  was  an  important  state  occasion  as  seen  by  im- 
partial eyes.  As  it  was  written  to  be  read  only  in  Venice,  the 
superlatives,  unlike  those  used  by  Hall,  cannot  be  laid  to  patriotic 
motives.  The  decorations  alone,  without  including  tlie  expense 
of  the  entertainment,  cost  8000£  in  modem  currency;  Holbein 
was  employed  to  paint  part  of  the  scenery;  Rastell,"for  writing 
of  the  dialogue  and  making  (poetry)  in  rhyme,  both  in  English 
and  Latin",  received  3s.  4d.  (2£  in  modem  currency), — a  curioiis 


12  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

comparative  valuation  of  scenery  and  poetry.  Inclination  and 
political  necessity  then  combined  to  make  life  splendid. 

With  such  gorgeous  backgrounds  and  such  spectacular  pro- 
ductions they  naturally  dressed  the  part.  The  reason  why  our 
stage  pictures  seem  unreal  is  because  they  are  unreal.  Our  cotton- 
backed  velvets  and  paste  jewels  create  no  illusion.  We  neither 
know  how  to  wear  the  clothes  nor  do  we  possess  them.  The  ward- 
robe lists  of  that  time  itemize  gowns  for  both  men  and  women  of 
silk,  of  satin,  and  of  velvet,  and  lined  with  foxskin  and  ermine. 
Henry,  Earl  of  Stafford,  according  to  the  inventory  of  1522,  pos- 
sessed thirteen  gowns  of  cloth  of  tissue,  white  damask,  cloth  of 
gold,  velvet,  and  satin;  his  wife  sixteen  gowns  of  the  same  mater- 
ials, pearled  and  lined  with  velvet.  As  such  costumes  are  obviously 
valuable,  they  may  be  said  to  have  invested  their  capital  in  their 
clothes.  This  state  of  affairs  was  due  principally  to  the  fact  that, 
since  the  statute  of  1487  forbade  "usury",  surplus  monies  were 
expended  on  land  and  on  articles  of  use.  Property  was  a  tangible 
asset.  That  explains  Spinelli's  enthusiasm  for  the  King's  dis- 
play of  plate," nor  were  any  of  them  touched"  ;  it  was  a  gratifying 
exhibition  of  royal  power.  In  accumulating  treasure  the  King  set 
the  example  to  his  subjects.  An  earUer  Venetian  traveller  had 
remarked:  ^ 

The  most  remarkable  thing  in  London,  is  the  wonderful  quantity  of  wrought 
silver.  I  do  not  allude  to  that  in  private  houses,  though  the  landlord  of  the  house 
in  which  the  Milanese  ambassador  lived,  had  plate  to  the  amount  of  100  crowns,  but 
to  the  shops  of  London.  In  one  single  street,  named  the  Strand,  leading  to  St. 
Paul's,  there  are  fifty  two  goldsmith's  shops,  so  rich  and  full  of  silver  vessels,  great 
and  small,  that  in  all  the  shops  in  Milan,  Rome,  Venice,  and  Florence  put  together, 
I  do  not  think  there  would  be  found  so  many  of  the  magnificence  that  are  to  be  seen 
in  London. 

This  exaggeration  was  rendered  plausible  by  the  fact  that,  in  de- 
fiance of  modem  economics,  no  gold  or  silver  was  allowed  to  be 
exported.  Brought  into  England  by  her  foreign  commerce,  they 
necessarily  remained  there.  The  will  of  EUzabeth  Browne,^  pre- 
served among  the  Paston  documents,  shows  to  what  an  extent 
property  assumed  such  form. 

1  Italian  Relation,  Camden  Soc.,  1847,  42. 
'  Paston  Letters,  ed.  Gairdner,  3,  463. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        13 

Moreover  I  geve  and  biqueith  to  my  doughter  Mary  .  .  .  First,  a  standing 
cupp  of  silver  gilt,  chaced  with  plompes,  weyeng  with  the  cover,  knoppe  and  devise 
xlij.  unces  el  dimidium.  Item,  a  standing  cupp  of  silver  and  gilt,  chaced  with 
flowres,  weying  with  the  cover,  the  knopp,  and  devise,  xxvij.  unces  et  dimidium. 
A  playn  standing  cupp  of  silver  gUt,  weing  with  the  cover,  the  knopp  and  the  devise, 
XXX  unces.  A  standing  cupp  of  silver  and  gilt,  chaced  with  half  plompes,  weying 
with  the  cover,  knopp  and  devise  xx.  imces  and  dimidium.  A  playn  standing  cupp 
of  silver  gilt  weying  with  cover  and  the  knoppe  and  the  devyse  xxvij.  unces  and  an 
half.  A  standyng  cuppe  of  silver  and  gilt,  weyng  with  the  cover,  the  knoppe  and 
the  devyse  xxvj.  unces.  A  saltseler  of  sylver  and  gilte,  weying  with  the  cover,  the 
knoppe  and  the  devyse  xxiij  unces.  A  saltseler  of  sylver  and  gilt,  without  a  cover, 
wej^ng  xxij.  imces  and  an  halfe.  A  litill  saltseler  or  sylver  and  gilt,  weying  with  the 
cover  and  the  knoppe  and  the  devyse  xv.  xmces  and  an  half.  A  litell  saltseler  or 
sylver  and  gilt,  without  the  cover,  weying  viij.  unces  and  an  halfe.  And  vij.  boUes 
of  sylver,  parcelles  gilt,  weying  iiij.  .  .  .  xviij.  unces.  And  ij.  peces  of  silver  with  a 
cover  weying  xlviij.  unces.  A  dozen  and  a  half  of  silver  sponys  weying  xxiij.  unces, 
and  iij.  sponys  of  silver  and  gilt  weying  iij.  unces  and  iij.  quartrons,  and  a  long 
spone  of  sylver  and  gilt  for  ginger,  weying  j.  unce  and  iij.  quartrons.  Item,  a 
chafing  disshe  of  sylver  weying  xxvj.  unces.  And  ij.  litell  crewettes  of  sylver  weying 
viij.  unces.  A  chalese  of  sylver  and  gilt  with  the  paten,  weying  xj.  unces.  An  haly 
water  stok  of  silver  with  the  lid,  handill,  and  spryngill,  weying  xij.  unces.  An 
Agnus  with  a  baleys,  iij.  saphires,  iij.  perlys  with  an  image  of  Saint  Anthony  apon 
it.  And  a  tablet  with  the  Salutacion  of  Our  Lady,  and  the  iij.  Kingis  of  Collayn. 
A  bee  with  a  grete  pearl.  A  dyamond,  an  emerawde,  iij.  grete  perlys  hanging  apon 
the  same.  A  nother  bee  with  a  grete  perle  with  an  emerawde  and  a  saphire,  weying 
ij.  unces  iij.  quarters.  A  pece  of  the  Holy  Crosse,  crossewise  made,  bordured  with 
silver  aboute;  iij.  brode  girdilles,    .  .  .  etc. 

As  Elizabeth  Browne  was  not  apparently  a  person  of  great  wealth, 
this  astonishing  list  must  show  the  kind  of  possessions  conventional 
in  her  state  of  life,  and  it  illustrates  the  comment  of  the  Italian.^ 

And  every  one  who  makes  a  tour  in  the  island  will  soon  become  aware  of  this 
great  wealth,  as  will  have  been  the  case  with  your  Magnificence,  for  there  is  no 
innkeeper,  however  poor  and  humble  he  may  be,  who  does  not  serve  his  table  with 
silver  dishes  and  drinking  cups;  and  no  one,  who  has  not  in  his  house  silver  plate  to 
the  amount  of  at  least  100£  sterling,  which  is  equivalent  to  500  golden  crowns  with 
us,  is  considered  by  the  English  to  be  a  person  of  any  consequence.  But  above  all 
are  their  riches  displayed  in  the  church  treasures. 

Whereupon  he  gives  an  account  of  the  shrine  of  St.  Thomas  at 
Canterbury  which  reads  like  that  of  Aladdin's  cave: 

but  every  thing  is  left  far  behind  by  a  ruby,  not  larger  than  a  man's  thumb-nail, 
which  is  set  to  the  right  of  the  altar.    The  church  is  rather  dark,  and  particularly 

'  Italian  Relation,  ibid,  28. 


14  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

so  where  the  shrine  is  placed,  and  when  we  went  to  see  it  the  sun  was  nearly  gone 
down,  and  the  weather  was  cloudy;  yet  I  saw  that  ruby  as  well  as  if  I  had  it  in  my 
hand;  they  say  that  it  was  the  gift  of  a  king  of  France. 

To  US  this  suggests  such  an  exhibition  as  that  at  the  shrine  of 
San  Carlo  Borromeo  at  Milan,  which  may  be  regarded  as  a  part 
of  the  conservatism  of  the  Roman  Church.  But  today  such 
exhibitions  are  the  exceptions,  rather  than  the  rule.  Then  the 
whole  hfe,  political  as  well  as  religious,  private  as  well  as  pubUc, 
was  toned  to  that  pitch  of  gorgeousness,  and  the  modern  reader 
must  imaginatively  supply  such  a  background  to  the  hterature. 
Such  display  affected  also  every  detail  of  the  life.  Each  noble- 
man kept  his  state  and  had  scores  of  retainers  living  at  his  expense. 
A  condition,  proper  to  feudal  society,  remained  for  Renaissance 
ostentation.  For  the  entire  court  the  King  set  free  table  (bowge). 
To  quote  again  from  the  Italian  Relation,^ 

he  does  not  change  any  of  the  ancient  usages  of  England  at  his  Court,  keeping  a 
sumptuous  table,  as  I  had  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  twice  that  your  Mag- 
nificence dined  there,  when  I  judged  that  there  might  be  from  600  to  700  persons  at 
dinner.  And  his  people  say  that  his  Majesty  spends  upon  his  table  14,000£  sterling 
annually,  which  is  equal  to  70,000  crowns. 

In  this  respect  the  King  was  but  the  first  in  the  Kingdom.  All  the 
great  nobles  and  ecclesiastics  provided  "sumptuous"  fare  for  num- 
bers that  seem  to  us  incredible.  The  manner  of  Uving  of  a  great 
noble  is  given  us  in  the  household  book  of  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham. For  example,  on  Thursday,  the  sixth  of  January  1508,  meals 
were  prepared  for  four  hundred  and  fifty-nine  persons.  To  feed 
this  number  required  1137  loaves  of  bread,  66  quarts  of  wine,  1039 
quarts  of  ale,  36  rounds  of  beef,  12  carcasses  of  mutton,  2  calves, 
4  pigs,  1  dry  ling,  2  salt  cod,  2  hard  fish,  1  salt  sturgeon,  3  swans, 
6  geese,  6  suckling  pigs,  10  capons,  1  lamb,  2  peacocks,  2  herons, 
22  rabbits,  18  chickens,  16  woodcock,  9  melards,  23  widgeons,18 
teals,  20  snipes,  9  dozen  of  great  birds,  6  dozen  of  little  birds,  3 
dozen  larks,  9  quails  from  the  store,  half  a  fresh  salmon,  1  fresh 
cod,  4  dog  fish,  2  tench,  7  little  bremes,  half  a  fresh  congre,  21  little 
roaches,  6  large  fresh  eels,  10  little  whiting,  17  flounders,  100  lam- 
preys, 3  sticks  of  little  eel  sowers,  3  plaice,  1  fresh.  .  .  ,4000  eggs, 
24  dishes  of  butter,  2  flaggons  of.  .  .  ,15  flaggons  of  milk,  3  flaggons 

» Ibid,  46. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        15 

of  cream,  2  flaggons  of  frumenty,  200  oysters,  and  herbs.  Aside 
from  the  quantity  and  the  variety,  the  Ust  is  remarkable  also  for 
the  fact  that,  except  for  the  last  item  "herbs",  there  are  no  vege- 
tables. Englishmen  were  still  in  the  carnivorous  age.  The  manner 
of  preparation  may  be  illustrated  from  the  well-known  Life  of 
Wolsey  by  Cavendish. 

Ye  must  understand  that  my  lord  was  not  there,  nor  yet  come,  but  they  being 
merry  and  pleasant  with  their  fare,  devising  and  wondering  upon  the  subtleties. 
Before  the  second  course,  my  Lord  Cardinal  came  in.  .  .  .  Anon  came  up  the 
second  course,  with  so  many  dishes,  subtleties,  and  curious  devices,  which  were 
above  a  hundred  in  number,  of  so  goodly  proportion  and  costly,  that  I  suppose  the 
Frenchmen  never  saw  the  like.  The  wonder  was  no  less  than  it  was  worthy  indeed. 
There  were  castles  with  images  in  the  same;  Paul's  church  and  steeple,  in  proportion 
for  the  quantity  as  well  counterfeited  as  the  painter  should  have  painted  it  upon  a 
cloth  or  wall.  There  were  beasts,  birds,  fowls  of  divers  kinds,  and  personages,  most 
lively  made  and  counterfeit  in  dishes;  some  fighting  as  it  were,  with  swords,  some 
with  guns  and  crossbows,  some  vaulting  and  leaping;  some  dancing  with  ladies, 
some  in  complete  harness,  jousting  with  spears,  and  with  many  more  devices  than 
I  am  able  with  my  wit  (to)  describe.  Among  all,  one  I  noted:  there  was  a  chess- 
board subtilely  made  of  spiced  plate,  with  men  to  the  same;  and  for  the  good  pro- 
portion, because  that  Frenchmen  be  very  expert  in  that  play,  my  lord  gave  the 
same  to  a  gentleman  of  France,  commanding  that  a  case  should  be  made  for  the 
same  in  all  haste,  to  preserve  it  from  perishing  in  the  conveyance  thereof  into  his 
country.  .  .  .  Then  went  cups  merrily  about,  that  many  of  the  Frenchmen  were 
fain  to  be  led  to  their  beds  .  .  . 

The  last  survival  of  such  culinary  art  is  to  be  found  in  the  orna- 
ments for  wedding-cakes,  the  little  bride  and  groom  under  the 
bell,  which  most  of  us  have  seen  only  through  confectioners' 
windows.  It  belongs  to  a  past  age,  an  age  when  the  app>eal  was 
made  to  the  eye  rather  than  to  the  palate,  just  as  children  are 
delighted  with  ice-cream  in  fancy  moulds.  In  general,  in  all  this 
emphasis  upon  extemaUty  during  the  Renaissance  there  is  a 
child-Uke  quality. 

Lack  of  restraint  in  the  manner  of  life  was  symptomatic  of  the 
internal  change  in  the  philosophy  of  the  period.  In  reaction 
against  Semitic  ideals  taught  by  the  Bible  the  moral  code  was 
relaxed.  Intellectually,  vertu  lost  the  meaning  of  virtue  to  become 
synonymous  with  ability;  emotionally,  the  bounds  of  decency 
were  overstepped  in  a  worship  of  beauty.^    In  the  first  direction, 

*  "Diese  wichtige  Konsequcnz  besteht  darin,  as  prinzipielle,  also  grundstUrzende 
Umwaizungcn  im  seitherigen  Produkyionsmechanismus  der  Menschen  unbedingt 


16  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

lying  became  a  political  accomplishment  and  assassination  a 
legitimate  weapon.  One  of  the  keenest  books  of  any  age,  II 
Principe  of  Macchiavelli,  has  for  hero  the  notorious  Cesar  Borgia 
whose  masterpiece  of  diplomacy  was  the  murder  of  two  hundred 
of  his  opponents  who  were  his  guests  at  a  banquet  in  Sinigaglia. 
But  Macchiavellianism  was  not  pecuUar  to  MacchiaveUi;  it 
pervades  the  age.  In  the  second  direction,  to  gratify  the  lusts  of 
the  flesh  was  considered  admirable  and  done  in  the  name  of 
Hellenism.  For,  while  we  have  behind  us  centuries  of  criticism, 
they  accepted  the  whole  without  discrimination.  Nor  is  this  to 
be  wondered  at.  Ancient  Greece  and  Rome  presented  a  complex 
ordered  civilization  beyond  the  conception  of  feudalism.  The 
descriptions  of  Athens  at  the  time  of  Pericles,  or  Rome  at  the 
time  of  Augustus,  with  broad  portico-lined  streets,  seemed  of  the 
very  fabric  of  dreams  to  the  15th  century  dweller  in  muddy,  un- 
sanitary London,  or  Paris.  To  us  with  our  stadiums  seating 
seventy  thousand  people  there  is  nothing  colossal  about  the 
Cohseum;  its  interest  is  in  its  historical  associations.  To  them 
it  was  the  work  of  supermen,  the  memorial  of  an  age  when  life 
was  finer  than  any  that  they  knew.  Now  there  are  certain 
features  of  classic  life,  however  much  we  may  tacitly  ignore  them, 
that  unquestionably  existed,  for  although  Greek  culture  is  rep- 
resented by  the  tragedies  of  Aeschylus  and  Sophocles  and  by 
the  statues  of  Phidias  and  Lysippus,  the  same  culture  in  another 
phase  is  given  in  the  erotic  writers  and  the  vase-paintings.  Nor 
had  the  Renaissance  sufficient  perspective  to  differentiate.  To 
them  the  Priapeia,  equally  with  the  Aeneid,  was  the  work  of  Vergil 
and  worthy  of  imitation, — ^perhaps  even  more  worthy  of  imitation 
by  persons  of  culture  because  it  presented  conceptions  opposed 
to  the  conventional  ideas  taught  by  the  Church  and  held  by  the 
common  herd.  Much  of  the  Renaissance  immoraUty  is  merely 
an  artistic  pose.  In  proportion  to  the  progress  of  humanism  there 
follows  concomitantly  a  freedom  of  expression  in  Hterature  and 
in  art,  and  Italy,  the  center  of  humanistic  culture,  was  also  the 
center  of  pagan  morality.  There,  a  wide  divergence  from  Christ- 
ian ethics  is  exhibited  in  all  classes  of  society.    The  unedifying 

auch  zu  einem  y5llig  neuen  geistigen  Inhalt  des  Lebens,  je  nachdem  sogar,  wenn 
man,  so  sagen  will,  zu  einer  voUigen  Neugeburt  der  Idee  fUhren  mUssen."  Edward 
Fuchs,  SittengeschicfUe,  Renaissance,  99. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        17 

entries  in  Burckhardt's  Diary  show  a  state  of  affairs  in  the  Vatican 
scarcely  suggestive  of  St.  Peter.  The  measure  of  the  Italian 
prince  is  given  by  the  lives  of  the  Baglioni,  the  Sforzas,  or  the 
D'Estes,  and  the  novelle  give  us  that  of  the  citizen.  All  testimony 
points  to  a  general  decline  in  the  moral  code.  It  is  not  that  there 
were  sporadic  outbursts,  such  as  followed  the  Restoration  in 
England,  or  the  Regency  in  France,  or  that  there  was  any  con- 
sciousness of  wrong-doing,  or  any  sense  of  shame.  When  a 
Duchess  of  Urbino  allows  herself  to  be  painted  nude,  even  by  a 
Titian,  it  must  mean  a  conception  of  decency  very  different  from 
our  own,  or  when  Cardinal  Bandello  feels  it  fitting  to  introduce 
exceedingly  free  tales  by  short  prayers,  or  when  the  author  of  the 
obscene  Ragionamenti  could  expect  to  be  made  a  prince  of  the 
Church,  a  state  of  morality  is  posited  in  which  the  modem  dis- 
tinctions between  right  and  wrong  do  not  exist. 

As  humanism  radiated  from  Italy  to  the  northern  nations,  its 
progress  was  marked  by  an  increased  appreciation  of  the  beautiful 
and  a  relaxation  of  morality.  In  France,  the  expedition  of  Charles 
Vni  in  1494,  when  the  French  court  en  masse  promenaded  the 
length  of  Italy,  introduced  southern  culture  to  the  generaUty. 
Actually  dates  mean  little  when  used  in  connection  with  a  great 
movement.  As  early  as  1478  the  facetious  tales  in  Latin  of  Poggio 
and  Valla  were  pubUshed  at  Paris,  and  continuously  Italian 
influence  dribbled  into  France  through  Lyons.  Yet,  broadly 
speaking,  owing  to  the  strong  personality  of  Clement  Marot  and 
the  influence  of  his  school,  French  literature  does  not  become 
Italianate  before  the  publication  of  the  Defense  et  Illustration 
de  la  langue  frangaise  in  1549.  On  the  other  hand  Francis  First's 
patronage  of  Italian  artists,  such  as  Leonardo  and  Cellini  for 
example,  and  his  love  for  Italian  architecture,  as  at  Fontainebleau, 
are  too  well  known  to  need  comment.  Almost  equally  well  known 
through  Brant6me  are  the  scandalous  conditions  at  the  Valois 
courts.    In  France  the  general  proposition  holds. 

In  England  the  proposition  does  not  hold  for  the  first  half  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  Not  until  Nash  and  Shakespeare  and 
Marlowe  do  we  find  literature  at  all  comparable  in  sensuousness 
with  the  Italian.  And,  unless  English  prudery  has  suppressed 
such  work,  it  seems  probable  that  then,  as  now,  the  Anglo-Saxon 
was  repelled  rather  than  attracted  by  the  artistic  excesses  of  the 


18  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Latin  nations.  The  movement  was  slow.  Just  as  England  had 
no  painters  to  compare  with  the  great  Italians,  on  the  other  hand 
her  literature  had  no  analogies  to  the  Italian  capitoli  or  writers 
of  the  type  of  Aretino.  Even  at  the  end  of  the  century  Nash  feels 
it  necessary  to  excuse  himself  for  his  "lascivious  rhymes,"  and 
Gascoigne  apologizes  for  the  looseness  of  his  i>oems, — ^a  looseness 
largely  imaginary  and  defended  by  foreign  precedent.  Humanism 
in  England  for  the  first  half  of  the  century  was  on  the  side  of 
morality.  Ascham  protests  violently  against  the  introduction  of 
Italian  culture  and  of  "baudy"  Italian  books.  An  additional 
reason  for  this  attitude  may  be  found  in  the  character  of  the 
protagonists  of  English  humanism.  To  associate  Sir  Thomas 
More,  Cheke,  Lilly,  or  Linacre  with  dissolute  living  is  impossible. 
The  result  is  that  humanism  there  became  primarily  intellectual 
in  character;  for  the  first  half  of  the  century  at  least  its  freedom 
was  that  of  the  mind  only. 

In  freeing  English  humanism  from  the  responsibility  of  the  in- 
troduction of  refined  vice,  it  must,  however,  be  confessed  that  the 
eflFect  was  largely  negative.  The  spiritual  uplift  of  the  age  of  faith 
had  gone,  and  the  contagion  of  European  example  produced  a 
low  moral  tone.  The  grossness  of  the  age  is  illustrated  in  the  letters 
of  Henry  to  Anne  Boleyn.  Skelton,  a  royal  tutor,  laureated  by 
three  universities,  and  ordained  priest,  allows  himself  to  use  words 
that  today  are  to  be  found  only  in  the  slums  and  stews.  Writers 
use  the  unadorned  substantive  whose  place  in  the  language  of 
more  polite  peoples  is  taken  by  a  suggestive  paraphrase.  They 
call  a  spade  a  spade,  partly  because  they  know  no  other  expression, 
and  partly  because  they  see  no  objection  to  stating  the  fact.  This 
coarseness  caught  the  attention  of  the  Venetian  traveller.^ 

And  altho  their  dispositions  are  somewhat  licentious,  I  have  never  noticed  any 
one,  either  at  court  or  amongst  the  lower  orders,  to  be  in  love,  ...  I  say  this  of  the 
men,  for  I  understand  it  is  quite  the  contrary  with  the  women,  who  are  very  violent 
in  their  passions.  Howbeit  the  English  keep  a  very  jealous  guard  over  their  wives, 
though  any  thing  may  be  compensated  in  the  end,  by  the  power  of  money. 

The  general  effect  of  humanism  upon  the  English  morals  in  the 
sixteenth  century  was  to  make  the  age  one  of  transition  from  a 
coarseness  in  expression,  which  is  brutal  and  repelling,  to  a  refine- 
ment, which,  by  concealing,  is  suggestive. 

^  Italian  Relation,  ibid,  24. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        19 

One  phase  of  this  almost  animal  attitude  on  the  part  of  the 
early  Tudors  deserves  careful  consideration  by  the  student  of  lit- 
erature, namely  their  ideas  concerning  the  treatment  of  children 
and  their  attitude  toward  the  marriage  relation.  These  funda- 
mental conceptions  necessarily  underlie  all  love  poetry,  such  as  the 
sonnet  sequences  of  Wyatt  and  of  Surrey.  Our  beUef  in  the  im- 
portance of  the  child  and  the  sanctity  of  marriage  causes  us  to 
read  into  their  words  meanings  that  are  not  there.  We  are  senti- 
mental over  the  presence  of  the  child  in  the  home;  they  were  not. 
To  illustrate  from  a  familiar  case,  I  think  that  it  shocks  the  modem 
reader  that  Lorenzo  in  eloping  with  Jessica  should  allow  her  to 
rob  Shy  lock;  the  elopement  is  excused  by  the  power  of  love  "on 
such  a  night",  but  what  can  excuse  the  theft  of  the  jewels?  To 
the  sixteenth  century  mind  both  the  elopement  and  the  theft  were 
on  the  same  plane.  If  Lorenzo  stole  the  daughter,  why  should  he 
stickle  at  taking  what  was  of  less  value?  The  relation  between  the 
parent  and  the  child  was  sternly  practical.  Let  the  Italian  con- 
tinue.* 

The  want  of  a£fection  in  the  English  is  strongly  manifested  towards  their  children; 
for  after  having  kept  them  at  home  till  they  arrive  at  the  age  of  7  or  9  years  at  the 
utmost,  they  put  them  out,  both  males  and  females,  to  hard  service  in  the  houses  of 
other  people,  binding  them  generally  for  another  7  or  9  years.  And  these  are  called 
apprentices,  and  during  that  time  they  perform  all  the  most  menial  offices;  and  few 
are  bom  who  are  exempted  from  this  fate,  for  every  one,  however  rich  he  may  be, 
sends  away  his  children  into  the  houses  of  others,  whilst  he,  in  return,  receives  those 
of  strangers  into  his  own.  And  on  inquiring  their  reason  for  this  severity,  they 
answered  that  they  did  it  in  order  that  their  children  might  learn  better  manners. 
But  I,  for  my  part,  believe  that  they  do  it  because  they  like  to  enjoy  all  their  com- 
forts themselves,  and  that  they  are  better  ser\'ed  by  strangers  than  they  would  be 
by  their  own  children.  Besides  which  the  English  being  great  epicures,  and  very 
avaricious  by  nature,  indulge  in  the  most  delicate  fare  themselves  and  give  their 
household  the  coarsest  bread,  and  beer,  and  cold  meat  baked  on  Sunday  for  the 
w^eek,  which,  however,  they  allow  them  in  great  abundance.  That  if  they  had  their 
own  children  at  home,  they  would  be  obliged  to  give  them  the  same  food  they  made 
use  of  for  themselves.  That  if  the  English  sent  their  children  away  from  home  to 
learn  virtue  and  good  manners,  and  took  them  back  again  when  their  apprenticeship 
was  over,  they  might,  perhaps,  be  excused;  but  they  never  return,  for  the  girls  are 
settled  by  their  patrons,  and  the  boys  make  the  best  marriages  they  can,  and, 
assbted  by  their  patrons,  not  by  their  fathers,  they  also  open  a  house  and  strive 
diligently  by  this  means  to  make  some  fortune  for  themselves;  whence  it  proceeds 

*  Italian  Relation,  ibid,  24.  On  this  whole  subject  compare  The  Age  of  Erasmus, 
P.  S.  Allen,  Oxford,  19U. 


20  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

that,  having  no  hope  of  their  paternal  inheritance,  they  all  become  so  greedy  of 
gain  that  they  feel  no  shame  in  asking,  almost  "for  the  love  of  God,"  for  the  smallest 
sums  of  money;  and  to  this  it  can  be  attributed,  that  there  is  no  injury  that  can  be 
committed  against  the  lower  orders  of  the  English,  that  may  not  be  atoned  for  by 
money. 

Such  is  the  way  the  English  "home"  of  the  sixteenth  century 
appeared  to  an  inteUigent  Italian.  Naturally  the  account  must 
be  taken  with  many  grains  of  salt.  Used  to  the  communal  family 
life  of  Italy,  where  all  the  generations  and  their  families  live  under 
one  roof,  he  is  too  ready  to  see  the  evils  of  another  system  and  to 
assign  wrong  motives  to  those  practicing  it.  Nevertheless  the 
system  existed  and  brought  with  it  certain  consequences.  The 
relation  between  the  parent  and  the  child  was  necessarily  formal. 
One  of  the  best  illustrations  is  given  in  Ascham's  report  of  the 
conversation  of  Lady  Jane  Grey.  As  she  was  the  niece  of  the  King 
and  a  possible  heir  to  the  throne,  the  presumption  is  that  she  would 
be  treated  with  special  consideration.  Ascham  is  here  arguing 
that  the  teacher  should  use  persuasion  rather  than  force.  The 
value  of  the  following  account  is,  therefore,  that  no  criticism 
against  the  parents  is  implied ;  their  attitude  is  assumed  to  be  the 
normal  one  of  the  age.^ 

One  of  the  greatest  benefits  that  ever  God  gave  me,  is,  that  he  sent  me  so  sharp 
and  severe  parents,  and  so  gentle  a  schoolmaster.  For  when  I  am  in  presence  either 
of  father  or  mother;  whether  I  speak,  keep  silence,  sit,  stand,  or  go,  eat,  drink,  be 
merry,  or  sad,  be  sewing,  playing,  dancing,  or  doing  anything  else;  I  must  do  it,  as  it 
were,  in  such  weight,  measure,  and  number,  even  so  perfectly,  as  God  made  the 
world;  or  else  I  am  so  sharply  taunted,  so  cruelly  threatened,  yea  presently  some- 
times with  pinches,  nips,  bobs,  and  other  ways  (which  I  will  not  name  for  the  honour 
I  bear  them)  so  without  measure  misordered,  that  I  think  myself  in  hell,  till  time 
come  that  I  must  go  to  Mr.  Elmer.  .  .  . 

The  gentleness  of  the  teacher  obviously  lies  in  favorable  contrast 
with  parental  disciphne.  Opposed  to  this  picture  is  that  given  us 
by  Erasmus  of  the  family  life  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  but  the  con- 
temporary celebrity  of  the  latter  shows  that  the  former  was  more 
nearly  the  rule.  Children  were  regarded  as  property  and,  as  prop- 
erty, negotiable.  Marriages  were  bought  and  sold.  Of  this  there 
is  abundant  testimony.    The  Paston  Letters,  of  the  latter  half  of 

1  The  Whole  Works  of  Roger  Ascham,  Rev.  Dr.  Giles,  iv,  118. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        21 

the  fifteenth  century,  have  preserved  Stephen  Scrope's  complaint 
of  his  guardian :  ^ 

He  bought  me  and  sold  me  as  a  beast,  against  all  right  and  law,  to  mine  hurt 
more  than  1000  marks. 

Yet  the  same  man,  with  a  changed  point  of  view,  tells  his  corre- 
spondent that  ^ 

For  very  need  I  was  fain  to  sell  a  little  daughter  I  have  for  much  less  than  I 
should  have  done  by  possibility. 

The  same  conditions  prevailed  in  the  sixteenth  century.  In  this 
spirit  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  wrote  Wolsey :  ^ 

I  beseech  Your  Grace  to  be  a  gode  Lord  unto  me  concemyng  the  office  of  the 
late  lord  Mounteagle  and  to  move  the  King's  Grace  that  for  my  mony  paying,  as 
another  wold,  I  myght  have  the  young  man  to  marry  one  of  my  doghters.  I  think 
his  londe  shal  be  little  above  m'^  marks  a  yere,  with  wich  I  wold  be  well  contented, 
not  myndyng  to  marry  my  doughters  no  hier. 

With  marriage  considered  in  this  frankly  commercial  spirit,  senti- 
ment evaporates.  The  result,  as  was  noted  at  the  time,  was  not 
happy.     In  his  Dialogue  Starkey  represents  Pole  as  saying:  * 

Among  the  wych,  as  I  remembyr,  was  ther  notyd  the  faute  of  bryngyng  vp  of  the 
nobylyte,  wych,  for  the  most  parte,  are  nuryschyd  wyt  (h)  out  cure,  bothe  of  theyr 
parentys  being  alyfe,  and  much  wers  of  them  in  whose  ward  commynly  they  dow 
fal  aftur  theyr  deth;  the  wych  care  for  nothyng  but  only  to  spoyle  theyr  pupyllys 
and  wardys,  or  els  to  mary  them  aftur  theyr  plesure,  wherby  the  true  loue  of  matry- 
mony  was  and  ys  vtturly  taken  away  and  destroyd;  to  the  wych,  as  euery  man 
knowyth,  succede  infynyte  myserys  and  mysordurys  of  lyfe. 

The  correctness  of  Cardinal  Pole's  deduction  could  be  proved  by 
citing  a  number  of  examples  of  unhappy  marriages,  among  which 
would  be  listed  that  of  his  Grace  of  Norfolk  himself.  It  is  this  atti- 
tude that  makes  Henry  VIH's  marital  experiences  comprehensi- 
ble.   Thomas,  his  apologist,  explains  simply :  ^ 

Now,  as  touching  the  King's  so  many  wives,  whom  he  chopped  and  changed  at  hia 
pleasure  (as  you  say),  the  truth  is,  that  he  hath  had  a  great  many  wives,  and  with 
some  of  them  hath  had  as  ill-luck  as  any  other  poor  man. 

'  Pcuton  Letters,  ed.  Gairdner,  Intro,  clxxv. 

*  Ibid.,  Intro,  clxxvi. 

» Norfolk  to  Wolsey,  15  April,  152S.  .  .  .  Record  Office,  Scottish  State  Papers. 
ii,  no.  7. 

*  Staricey's  Dialogue  between  Lupset  and  Pde,  ed.  Brewer,  188. 
»  The  Pilgrim,  by  William  Thomas,  ed.  Froude,  55. 


22  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

In  any  case,  the  situation  is  only  slightly  more  scandalous  than 
his  father's  negotiations  for  a  second  wife.  Marriage  then  was 
regarded,  not  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  contracting  parties, 
but  from  the  standpyoint  of  the  family.  When  a  man  wished  other- 
wise, the  easy  morality  of  the  sixteenth  century  allowed  unsancti- 
fied  attachments,  since  from  feudal  times  the  Renaissance  had 
inherited  a  difference  in  meaning  between  the  words  "lover"  and 
"husband".  As  this  condition  was  inherited  from  feudal  times,  it 
is  illogical  to  posit  it  as  a  result  of  humanism.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  spread  of  classic  culture  not  only  did  not  remedy  the  evil,  it 
served  to  intensify  it.  In  ancient  Greece  the  wife  is  not  the  one 
celebrated  in  poetry  and  romance,  and  while  republican  Rome  has 
her  CorneUas,  the  luxury  of  the  later  city  was  the  attraction  for 
the  men  of  the  Renaissance.  And  a  great  gain  to  civilization  by 
the  introduction  of  Christianity,  namely  the  recognition  of  the 
rights  of  the  woman  and  the  child,  in  the  sixteenth  century  had 
been  gravely  impaired.  To  summarize,  then,  the  total  effect  upon 
Renaissance  England  of  the  working  of  the  classic  spirit  is  diflfi- 
cult.  In  one  respect,  it  increased  the  joy  of  living,  but,  in  another, 
it  did  so  at  the  expense  of  spiritual  growth.  Humanism,  in  the 
minds  of  such  men  as  Ascham,  certainly  was  associated  with  a 
sense  of  morality  almost  Puritanical,  and  yet  the  very  works  in 
which  they  advocate  it  are  filled  with  denunciations  of  its  logical 
results  in  Italy.  These  logical  results,  moreover,  the  freedom  in 
thought  and  in  life,  acting  in  varying  ways,  produced  the  ancestors 
of  the  Puritans.  Tyndale,  Martin  Marprelate,  Cromwell, — there 
is  a  kinship  between  them,  and  humanism  becomes  a  factor  in  the 
English  Reformation. 

This  revival  of  an  interest  in  classic  literatures  by  stimulating 
man's  intellect  stimulated  also  an  interest  in  the  natural  world 
about  him.  A  mind  brought  into  contact  with  the  guesses  at 
truth  by  the  ancient  philosophers  refused  to  be  satisfied  with  dog- 
matic utterances,  however  authoritative.  Modem  science  was 
bom,  and  with  it  the  struggle  between  inspirational  and  inferential 
teaching,  which  is  still  with  us.  The  conflict  between  Galileo  and 
the  Church,  between  science  and  faith,  precedes  chronologically 
the  debate  between  Huxley  and  Gladstone  by  centuries,  but  the 
principle  involved  is  the  same.  Shall  man  accept  the  conclusions 
of  his  reason  founded  upon  scientific  data  when  such  conclusions 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        23 

are  in  opposition  to  the  explanations  of  the  same  phenonoma 
given  by  religious  doctrine?  The  particular  question  at  issue  in 
the  sixteenth  century  was  not  the  cosmogony  of  Genesis  but  the 
substitution  of  the  Copemican  for  the  Ptolemaic  system  of  astron- 
omy. Like  other  great  ideas  it  advanced  slowly.  It  appears  in  a 
rudimentary  form  in  the  speculations  of  the  "Pythagoreans"  at 
the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century.  Copernicus,  returning  from 
Italy,  enunciated  it  in  1530,  and  Galileo  and  Kepler  popularized 
it  nearly  a  century  later.  During  the  period  with  which  we  deal  it 
was  a  subtile,  unsettling  force,  destructive  rather  than  construc- 
tive, and  its  effect  appears  rather  in  the  mental  attitude  assumed  to- 
ward things  in  general.  To  understand  why  the  abstruse  question 
of  the  relation  of  the  sun  to  the  earth  should  have  had  such  momen- 
tous consequences  it  must  be  remembered  what  the  Ptolemaic 
system  implied.  According  to  the  medieval  interpretation  of  this, 
the  earth  was  a  flat  plain  covered  by  a  series  of  transparent  globes 
between  which  the  planets  moved  with  the  "music  of  the  spheres". 
Looking  down  from  above  were  God  and  the  saints.  In  the  mapp- 
amondo  in  the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa,  God  is  represented  as  a  gi- 
gantic figure  holding  this  mechanism .  Two  deductions  followed  this 
conception,  each  flattering  to  man's  sense  of  his  own  importance. 
The  first  was  the  belief  in  the  immediate  nearness  of  the  super- 
natural,— not  the  telepathic  spiritual  presence  of  the  Divine,  but 
a  corporeal  reality  that  in  the  Pisan  Campo  Santo,  or  in  Orcagna's 
painting  in  Santa  Maria  Novella  at  Florence,  or  in  Giotto's  fresco 
in  the  Arena  Chapel  at  Padua,  is  terrible  in  its  grotesqueness.  The 
life  of  man  was  a  battle  between  the  powers  of  light  and  the  powers 
of  darkness, — a  battle  in  which  the  soul  played  a  somewhat  pas- 
sive part.  On  one  side  actual  tangible  devils  were  awaiting  their 
opportunity ;  on  the  other  were  ranged  the  Virgin  and  the  saints. 
In  any  and  all  contingencies  the  repentant  sinner  could  rely  upon 
their  aid. 

Miracles  were  of  common  occurrence  and,  according  to  report, 
upon  them  chiefly  depended  the  repentant  scallawag.  Many  a 
thief  has  been  spared,  many  a  peril  averted,  by  timely  prayers 
to  the  saints.  In  fact  it  was  well  known  that  each  saint,  and  even 
each  madonna,  had  peculiar  prerogatives,  and  an  acute  per- 
ception of  the  difference  of  attributes  rendered  prayer  more 
efficacious.    And  this  point  of  view  was  universal;  it  was  approved 


24  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

by  the  Church  and  recognized  by  the  State;  it  was  held  by  the 
monarch,  the  scholar,  the  merchant,  the  priest;  it  had  been  tested 
by  thousands;  it  was  so.  To  a  world  of  such  conceptions,  imag- 
ine the  mental  upheaval  caused  by  the  Copemican  theory  where 
the  earth  is  but  a  restless  midge  hurtling  through  space,  man  an 
atom  in  the  scheme  of  things,  and  God  withdrawn  beyond  the 
silent  voids.  No  wonder  that  both  Church  and  State  opposed 
such  a  doctrine,  that  Copernicus*  books  were  destroyed,  that 
Galileo  was  forced  to  recant,  and  that  Bruno  was  burned,  or  that 
a  faint  apprehension  of  its  consequences  should  have  brought  the 
whole  question  of  religion  to  the  fore.  It  was  all  embracing  in  its 
scope  and  both  the  mystic  and  the  atheist  were  equally  aflFected. 
If  the  first  deduction  were  important  in  changing  man's  concep- 
tion of  his  relation  to  God,  the  second  was  no  less  so  in  changing 
his  relation  to  nature.  By  a  literal  interpretation  of  the  covenant 
with  Noah,  the  Middle  Ages  believed  man  to  be  the  most  important 
factor  in  the  universe.  All  things  were  created  for  his  use,  existed 
for  him,  and  were  to  be  studied  in  regard  to  him.  As  the  earth 
had  been  given  him  for  his  habitation,  the  assumption  was  made 
that  all  natural  phenomena  were  to  be  explained  in  terms  of  human 
benefit,  and,  if  that  benefit  was  not  obvious,  it  was  because  his 
purblind  eyes  could  not  see  God's  hidden  purpose.  The  meaning 
was  there  if  only  the  book  of  nature  could  be  read.  When,  for 
example,  a  comet  appeared,  the  desire  was  not  to  investigate  its 
nature  and  the  law  by  which  it  is  governed,  but  to  determine  its 
significance,  and,  as  clearly  so  striking  a  phenomenon  would  not 
be  employed  upon  trifles,  its  appearance  portended  battle,  murder, 
or  sudden  death.  If  once  the  premises  upon  which  they  argued 
be  accepted,  their  conclusions  are  logical;  there  is  nothing  absurd 
in  astrology  or  alchemy.  To  us,  with  our  knowledge  based  upon 
other  hypotheses,  the  science  of  the  Middle  Ages  seems  ridiculous 
and  we  make  the  error  of  thinking  of  its  professors  as  simple  and 
child-Uke.  We  complacently  laugh  at  an  age  that  could  accept 
such  extravagant  opinions,  and  the  vast  tomes  of  the  schoolmen 
are  read  in  search  of  the  bizarre,  the  great  acumen  and  acuteness 
displayed  in  the  reasoning  quite  forgotten.  But  so  long  as  the 
deductive  method  only  was  employed,  not  in  spite  of,  but  because 
of,  the  acuteness  of  the  reasoning, — if  a  man  starts  in  the  wrong 
direction,  the  farther  he  goes  the  farther  he  goes  astray — ^little 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        25 

progress  was  possible  in  science.  The  pagan  Arab  it  was  that 
studied  nature,  while  Christian  Europe  was  lost  in  futile  specula- 
tions. 

That  nature  obeys  her  own  laws,  quite  independent  of  man's 
convenience,  is  a  modem  conception  and  one  which  influences  to 
the  last  detail  the  daily  life  of  each  of  us.  Natural  law  moves  on, 
crushing  our  protesting  impotence,  and  we  have  learned  that 
happiness  lies  in  our  adjusting  ourselves  to  powers  that  we  may 
direct  but  cannot  control.  The  Middle  Ages  had  not  learned 
this.  Their  disdain  of  nature  permitted  habits  of  life  and  living 
conditions  clearly  unsanitary.  Today  the  back  scese  of  old  Naples 
give  a  faint  appreciation  of  the  actuality  of  Tudor  London. 
Through  the  middle  of  narrow  unpaved  streets, — one  of  More's 
Utopian  dreams  was  of  streets  twenty  feet  in  width — ran,  or 
stagnated,  the  accumulated  garbage,  offal,  and  sewage  of  the  in- 
habitants. The  unhappy  traveller  fought  for  precedence  with 
swine  that  acted  as  scavengers.  Overhead  hovered  flocks  of 
kites  ^  "which  are  so  tame,  that  they  often  take  out  of  the  hands 
of  little  children,  the  bread  smeared  with  butter,  in  the  Flemish 
fashion,  given  to  them  by  their  mothers."  Within  the  half- 
timbered  houses  matters  were  no  better.^ 

First  of  all.  Englishmen  never  consider  the  asi>ect  of  their  doors  or  windows; — 
next,  their  chambers  are  built  in  such  a  way  as  to  admit  of  no  ventilation.  Then  a 
great  part  of  the  walls  of  the  house  is  occupied  with  glass  casements,  which  admit 
light,  but  exclude  the  air,  and  yet  they  let  in  the  draft  through  holes  and  comers, 
which  is  often  pestilential  and  stagnates  there.  The  floors  are  in  general  laid  with 
white  clay,  and  are  covered  with  rushes,  occasionally  removed,  but  so  imperfectly 
that  the  bottom  layer  is  left  undisturbed,  sometimes  for  twenty  years,  harbouring 
expectorations,  vomitings,  the  leakage  of  dogs  and  men,  ale-droppings,  scraps  of 
fish,  and  other  abominations  not  fit  to  be  mentioned.  Whenever  the  weather 
changes,  a  vapour  is  exhaled,  which  I  consider  very  detrimental  to  health.  .  .  . 
More  moderation  in  diet,  and  especially  in  the  use  of  salt  meats,  might  be  of  service; 
more  particularly  were  public  aediles  appointed  to  see  the  streets  cleaned  from  mud 
and  urine,  and  the  suburbs  kept  in  better  order. 

That  under  such  sanitation  as  Erasmus  has  here  described,  the 
plague  should  be  a  frequent  and  terrible  visitor  is  not  surprising, 

'  Italian  Relation,  ibid.,  11. 

*  Erasmus  to  John  (?)  Francis,  Wolsey'a  physician,  translated  by  Brewer,  Reign 
qf  Henry  Vlll,  i,  8S9. 


26  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

but  the  particular  epidemic  which  called  forth  his  strictures  was 
the  sudor  Anglicus,  or  Sweating  Sickness.  Dr.  Caius,  a  Welsh 
physician,  had  studied  it.^ 

In  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1485,  shortly  after  the  seventh  day  of  August,  at  which 
time  King  Henry  VII.  arrived  at  Milford,  in  Wales,  out  of  France,  and  in  the  first 
year  of  his  reign,  there  chanced  a  disease  among  the  people,  lasting  the  rest  of  that 
month  and  all  September,  which  for  the  sudden  sharpness  and  unwonted  cruelness 
passed  the  pestilence.  For  this  commonly  giveth  in  four,  often  seven,  sometime 
nine,  sometime  eleven,  and  sometime  fourteen  days,  respite  to  whom  it  vexeth. 
But  that  immediately  killed  some  in  opening  their  windows,  some  in  playing  with 
children  in  their  street  doors;  some  in  one  hour,  many  in  two,  it  destroyed;  and,  at 
the  longest,  to  them  that  merrily  dined  it  gave  a  sorrowful  supper.  As  it  found 
them,  so  it  took  them:  some  in  sleep,  some  in  wake,  some  in  mirth,  some  in  care, 
some  fasting  and  some  full,  some  busy  and  some  idle;  and  in  one  house  sometime 
three,  sometime  five,  sometime  more,  sometime  all;  of  the  which,  if  the  half  in  every 
town  escaped,  it  was  thought  great  favoiu*.  This  disease,  because  it  most  did  stand 
in  sweating  from  the  beginning  imtil  the  ending,  was  called  The  Sweating  Sickness; 
and  because  it  first  began  in  England,  it  was  named  in  other  countries  "  The  English 
Sweat." 

This  pestilence  appeared  again  in  1506,  1517,  1528(?)  and  1551 
and  it  has  been  calculated  that  over  thirty  thousand  persons  died 
of  it  during  the  five  visitations.  Precautions  seemed  unless.  Du 
Bellay,  the  French  Ambassador,  writes:  ^ 

This  sweat,  which  has  made  its  appearance  within  these  four  days,  is  a  most 
perilous  disease.  One  has  a  little  pain  in  the  head  and  heart,  suddenly  a  sweat 
breaks  out,  and  a  doctor  is  useless;  for  whether  you  wrap  yourself  up  much  or 
little,  in  four  hours,  sometimes  in  two  or  three,  you  are  dispatched  without  lan- 
guishing, as  in  those  troublesome  fevers.  However,  only  about  two  thousand  have 
caught  it  in  London.  Yesterday  going  to  swear  the  truce,  we  saw  them  as  thick  as 
flies  rushing  from  the  streets  and  shops  into  their  houses  to  take  the  sweat,  whenever 
they  felt  ill.  I  found  the  Ambassador  of  Milan  leaving  his  lodgings  in  great  haste 
because  two  or  three  had  been  suddenly  attacked.  ...  In  London,  I  assure  you, 
the  priests  have  a  better  time  of  it  than  the  doctors,  except  that  the  latter  do  not 
help  to  bury.  If  the  thing  goes  on  com  will  soon  be  cheap.  It  is  twelve  years  since 
there  was  such  a  visitation,  when  there  died  ten  or  twelve  thousand  {>ersons  in  ten  or 
twelve  days,  but  it  was  not  so  bad  as  this  has  been.  The  Legate  (Wolsey)  had  come 
for  the  term  (to  Westminster),  but  immediately  bridled  his  horses  again,  and  there 
will  be  no  term. 

^  Stories  from  State  Papers,  A.  C.  Ewald,  i,  140. 
*  R^gn  of  Henry  VIII,  ibid.,  ii,  271. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        27 

A  few  days  later  he  writes:  ^ 

The  King  keeps  moving  about  for  fear  of  the  plague.  Many  of  his  people  have 
died  of  it  in  three  or  four  hours.  ...  Of  40,000  attacked  in  London  only  2,000  are 
dead,  but  if  a  man  only  put  his  hand  out  of  bed  during  twenty-four  hours  it  becomes 
stiff  as  a  pane  of  glass. 

The  panic  of  both  Cardinal  and  King  was  not  due  to  unfounded 
fear,  as  the  former  himself  had  been  attacked  four  separate  times 
and  among  the  immediate  attendants  of  the  latter,  Bryan  Tuke, 
his  Secretary  suffered,  and  Sir  William  Compton,  a  favorite 
courtier,  and  William  Gary,  the  husband  of  Mary  Boleyn,  both 
died.  Even  Anne  Boleyn  herself  was  attacked.  The  King  made 
his  will  and  took  the  sacraments  to  be  prepared  for  sudden  death. 
The  quickness  of  the  disease  and  its  fatality  are  illustrated  in  the 
case  of  Ammonius,  the  Latin  Secretary  and  friend  of  Erasmus. 
He  had  arranged  at  dinner  with  a  friend  to  ride  to  Merton  the 
following  day  to  escape  the  infection;  eariy  next  morning  a  mes- 
senger arrived  to  tell  the  friend  that  Ammonius  had  died  in  eight 
hours.  To  combat  the  evil  medical  science  had  receipts  of  which 
the  three  following  are  typical. 

Take  three  large  spoonfuls  of  water  of  dragons,  and  a  quarter  of  a  spoonful  of  the 
treacle  of  Gean,  and  half  a  nutshellfull  of  unicorn's  horn  scraped  small,  and  a 
quarter  of  a  spoonful  of  fine  good  powder  of  maces,  and  make  all  that  same  hot, 
and  so  let  the  patient  drink  it,  and  keep  him  well,  neither  over  hot  nor  over  cold,  but 
whole  in  his  arms  and  feet,  and  let  him  keep  him  by  taking  clothes  off  him  by 
little  and  little,  till  he  be  dried  up,  and  let  him  use  wholesome  meats,  and  by  the 
grace  of  God  he  shall  not  perish.  Probatum  est  of  my  Lord  Darcy  and  30  i>erson3 
in  his  house  all  in  peril. 

A  proved  medicine  against  the  pestilence,  called  the  philosopher's  egg. — Take 
first  an  egg  and  break  an  hole  in  one  end  thereof,  and  do  out  the  white  from  the 
yolk  as  clean  as  you  can;  then  take  whole  saffron  and  fill  the  shell  therewith  by  the 
yolk,  then  close  it  at  both  ends  with  two  half  egg  shells;  then  rake  it  in  the  embers 
till  it  be  so  hard  that  you  may  stamp  it  to  fine  powder  in  a  mortar,  shell  and  all; 
then  take  as  much  white  mustard  seed  as  the  weight  of  the  egg  and  the  saffron  is 
and  grind  it  as  small  as  meal;  then  tuke  the  4th  part  of  an  ox.  of  a  dittony  root,  and 
as  much  of  turmontell  and  of  crownutes  one  dram;  stamp  this  three  sundry  times 
very  fine  in  a  mortar,  and  then  mix  them  three  well  together;  after  take  as  a  thing 
most  needful  the  root  of  angelica  and  pimpernel,  of  each  one  drachm,  and  make 
them  to  powder  and  mix  with  the  rest;  then  compound  herewith  4  or  5  grans  a 
quantity  of  unicorn's  horn  if  it  be  possible  to  be  gotten,  and  take  so  much  weight 

'  Reign  of  Henry  VIII,  Brewer,  App.  i. 


28  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

as  all  these  powders  come  to  of  fine  treacle,  and  stamp  the  same  with  the  powders  in 
a  mortar,  till  they  be  all  mixed  and  hang  to  the  pestle,  and  then  it  is  perfectly  made; 
put  this  electuary  in  glass  boxes,  and  you  may  keep  it  20  or  30  years;  the  longer 
the  better. 

Another  very  true  medicine. — For  to  say  every  day  at  seven  parts  of  your  body, 
7  paternosters,  and  7  Ave  Marias,  with  1  credo  at  the  last.  Ye  shal  begyn  at  the 
ryght  syde,  under  the  ryght  ere,  saying  the  "paternoster  qui  es  in  coelis  sanc- 
tificetur  nomen  tuum,"  with  a  cross  made  there  with  your  thumb,  and  so  say  the 
paternoster  full  complete,  and  1  Ave  Maria,  and  then  under  the  left  ear,  and  then 
under  the  left  armhole,  and  then  under  the  left  thigh  (?)  hole,  and  then  the  last  at 
the  heart,  with  1  paternoster,  Ave  Maria,  with  1  credo;  and  these  thus  said  daily, 
with  the  grace  of  God  is  there  no  manner  drede  hym.  Quod  pro  certo  probatum  est 
cotidie. 

With  remedies  like  these,  which  seem  about  equally  good,  the 
terror  inspired  by  the  Sweating  Sickness  may  well  be  imagined. 
And  this  was  not  the  only  terror;  the  Black  Death  ^  was  a  re- 
current visitor  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  while 
fevers,  which  are  today  differentiated  and  fought  individually, 
then  as  a  single  disease  exacted  their  toll.  Death  was  near. 
Whether  the  foreground  in  the  literature  be  fantastic,  gorgeous, 
or  joyous,  the  modern  reader  must  remember  that  the  background 
was  of  somber  black.  Beneath  the  light  vibrant  laugh  and  the 
staccato  tinkle  of  the  lute,  he  must  hear  the  dull  tolling  of  the 
sepulchral  bell. 

The  effect  of  these  general  conditions  was  to  vulgarize  and  to 
cheapen  death.    It  was  so  common  that  it  lost  its  punitive  effect. 

*  The  "plague"  must  not  be  confused  with  the  epidemic  of  syphilis  which  raged 
during  the  closing  years  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The  statement  is  often  made  that 
it  was  then  introduced  into  Europe  by  the  companions  of  Columbus.  Although 
without  question  it  was  regarded  by  the  physicians  of  that  time  as  a  new  disease, 
the  theory  of  the  Columban  origin  must  be  received  with  great  caution.  The 
question  is  at  present  being  hotly  debated.  Dr.  Ivan  Bloch  of  Vienna  argues 
in  favor  of  the  theory  on  the  ground  that  no  pre-Columban  bones  have  been  found 
with  lesions.  The  case  for  the  negative  is  stated  by  Dr.  J.  K.  Proksch  (Geschichte 
de  Geschlechtskrankheiten,  Handbuch  der  Geschlechtskrankheiien,  Wien  und  Leipzig, 
1910,  I  Band,  48-49):  "dagegen  ist  es  aus  sehr  vielen,  schon  hundertmal  darge- 
legten  Grllnden  wissenschafthch  absolut  unmGglich,  diesen  drei  viel  zu  spat  gekom- 
menen  und  sonst  auch  ganz  unverlassUchen  Zeugen  dafUr  die  endgiiltige  Ent- 
scheidung  zu  liberlassen,  dass  die  Syphilis  vor  der  ersten  RUckkehr  des  Kolumbus 
aus  Amerika  (1493)  in  Europa  nicht  existiert  hat."  When  doctors  disagree,  it 
behooves  the  layman  to  be  silent.  I  owe  these  references  to  the  kindness  of  Dr. 
John  E.  Lane. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        29 

Of  what  deterrent  value  was  it  merely  to  kill  a  man  today  when 
probably  he  would  die  tomorrow  naturally?  Thus  arose  the 
horrible  features  of  the  tortures,  of  the  quarterings,  and  of  the 
public  executions.  When  capital  punishment  was  the  sentence 
for  petty  theft,  the  imagination  was  called  upon  for  weird 
horrors  when  a  real  crime  had  been  committed.  According  to 
Holinshed,  twenty-two  thousand  persons  were  executed  for  theft 
during  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII  and  it  was  the  economic  loss  to 
the  state  by  this  practice  that  More  lamented  in  the  Utopia. 
Moreover  as  during  the  fifteenth  century  there  had  be^i  a  con- 
tinual shifting  of  political  parties,  and  as  each  party  when  success- 
ful uniformly  condemned  the  defeated,  few  families  indeed  es- 
caped the  sentence.  At  the  accession  of  Henry  VII  many  of  the 
persons  to  compose  parUament,  including  the  King  himself,  were 
under  sentence  of  outlawry,  and  the  difficulty  was  resolved  by 
the  judges  by  the  declaration  that  all  under  sentence  should  take 
seat  only  after  the  sentence  had  been  revoked,  except  the  King 
"by  reason  of  the  fact  that  he  has  taken  upon  him  the  supreme 
authority,  and  is  king. "  ^  The  fatality  of  the  age  may  be  shown 
by  enumerating  the  tragedies  of  the  brilliant  company  assembled 
for  the  christening  of  the  future  Queen  Elizabeth.  Henry  Bour- 
chier,  Earl  of  Essex,  who  carried  the  bason,  was  killed  by  a  fall 
from  his  horse;  Henry  Courtenay,  Marquis  of  Exeter  and  Earl 
of  Devonshire,  who  carried  the  wax,  was  beheaded;  Henry  Grey, 
Duke  of  Suffolk  and  third  Marquis  of  Dorset,  who  carried  the 
salt,  was  beheaded;  the  mother,  Anne  Boleyn,  was  beheaded;  the 
godfather.  Archbishop  Cranmer,  was  burned  at  the  stake;  in  the 
company  were  Baron  Hussey  and  Lord  Rocheford,  who  were  both 
beheaded,  Thomas  Boleyn,  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  who  lived  to  see 
both  his  son  and  his  daughter  beheaded,  and  Lord  Darcy  whose 
son-in-law  was  hanged.  It  was  a  grim  age,  the  days  of  bluff  King 
Hal! 

The  first  rift  in  this  darkness  is  the  Copemican  doctrine,  in 
that  there  was  conceived  the  existence  of  law  apart  from  super- 
natural agency  or  human  interest.  After  the  idea  had  been  as- 
similated, the  succeeding  steps  through  the  centuries  seem  inevit- 
able. Scientific  knowledge,  based  upon  experiments,  necessarily 
accumulated;  whereas,  so  long  as  it  was  held  that  logical  deduction 
'  Year  Book  1.  Henry  VII,  fol  4b. 


so  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

from  premises  inspired  directly  by  God  was  the  only  procedure, 
the  energy  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  been  misdirected.  It  is  for 
this  reason  that  the  answer  to  an  apparently  abstruse  question 
such  as  is  that  of  the  relation  of  the  earth  to  the  sun  forms  one  of 
the  mental  cleavings  between  the  medieval  and  the  modem  man. 

Contemporaneously  with  these  two  vast  changes  in  the  mental 
outlook,  produced  by  the  revived  interest  in  classic  life  and  thought 
and  produced  by  the  new  scientific  point  of  view,  appeared  the 
third  great  factor  that  was  to  revolutionize  the  world,  namely  the 
extension  of  geographic  knowledge.  The  world  of  classic  civiliza- 
tion, which  the  Middle  Ages  had  inherited,  centered  around  the 
Mediterranean  Sea.  To  the  north  the  Empire  had  extended  to 
the  North  Sea  and  England;  to  the  south  it  was  bounded  by  the 
Sahara.  Beyond  these  limits  was  a  region  of  casual  myth;  there 
was  little  to  stir  even  curiosity.  To  the  west  lay  the  Mare  Tene- 
hrosum,  concerning  the  bounds  of  which  it  was  futile  to  speculate; 
their  attitude  towards  the  ocean  was  similar  to  ours  in  regard  to 
stellar  space, — an  inability  to  conceive  either  an  end  or  an  absence 
of  end,  and  in  the  meantime  an  increased  interest  in  matters  that 
we  can  know.  The  result  was  that  Europe  was  backed  against  the 
Atlantic  and  faced  the  east  from  whence  came  her  perils.  From 
the  earliest  times  the  history  of  Europe  has  consisted  in  resisting 
invasions  from  Asia.  Greece  had  the  Persian  and  Rome  had  the 
Parthian.  With  the  fall  of  the  Empire  a  succession  of  barbarian 
tribes  overran  Europe.  To  the  Middle  Ages  the  conflict  between 
the  Cross  and  the  Crescent  was  still  reality  without  romance.  It 
was  not  until  1492  that  the  ^oors  were  driven  from  Granada,  and 
not  until  1683  that  the  tide  was  finally  turned  by  the  victory  of 
Jan  Sobieski  under  the  walls  of  Vienna.  During  the  whole  of  the 
Renaissance  the  Great  Turk  was  an  ever-present  menace.  How- 
ever delightful  danger  may  be  in  retrospect,  rarely  is  one  suflB- 
ciently  philosophic  to  enjoy  the  present  peril,  and  Europe,  "facing 
mornward  still",  had  no  leisure  to  enjoy  the  thrill.  With  the  pass- 
ing of  the  ages  of  faith,  the  unification  given  by  that  faith  had 
gone,  and  a  Renaissance  picture  is  that  of  Pius  II  dying  on  the 
mole  at  Ancona  after  he  had  summoned  all  Christendom  for  a 
final  crusade  against  the  Turk, — ^and  waited  in  vain! 

If  Europe's  interest  in  Asia  was  due  partly  to  fear,  it  was  also 
due  partly  to  love  of  gain.    There  were  three  great  trade  routes 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        31 

from  Europe  to  the  far  east;  the  northern,  via  the  Caspian  Sea, 
the  Oxus,  to  the  Indus;  the  middle,  through  Syria,  down  the 
Euphrates  to  the  Persian  Gulf;  and  the  southern,  via  the  Red  Sea. 
By  the  rise  of  the  Saracen  Empire  in  the  seventh  and  eighth  cen- 
turies the  southern  and  middle  of  these  routes  had  passed  into  the 
control  of  the  Arabs.  The  possession  of  the  sole  remaining  route 
explains  the  commercial  prosperity  first  of  Constantinople,  and 
later  of  Venice.  The  stately  palaces  on  the  Grand  Canal  rose  from 
the  profits  of  the  trade,  since  from  the  thirteenth  century  Venice 
was  the  natural  port  of  the  products  of  the  east.  Venetian  galleys 
carried  indigo,  incense,  gumarabic,  aloes,  myrrh,  lake,  nutmegs, 
cloves,  cardamums,  and  other  spices,  ginger,  camphor,  rice,  mus- 
lins, silk  stuffs,  almonds,  wax,  cubebs,  oil,  malmsey,  sugar,  cur- 
rants, honey,  pigments,  vitriol,  rock  alum,  etc.  etc.  to  all  parts  of 
western  Europe.  As  there  was  no  refrigeration,  condiments  were 
used  in  cooking  to  an  amount  unapproached  in  modern  times 
and  all  spices  came  from  the  Orient.  In  1453,  however,  the  last 
route  for  this  commerce  was  closed  to  Europe  by  the  capture  of 
Constantinople  by  the  Turks,  and  Asia  was  apparently  lost.  Its 
glories  as  told  by  the  occasional  traveller,  such  as  Marco  Polo,  or 
by  the  occasional  missionary,  such  as  Friar  Odoric,  took  on  the 
lustre  of  romance.  The  travels  of  "Sir  John  Mandeville"  and  the 
Epistle  of  Prester  John  were  accepted  at  their  face  value.  The 
grossly  fictitious  mingled  with  the  actual  because  men  had  lost 
the  ability  to  distinguish  between  fact  and  fiction,  and  the  whole 
subject  shone  with  the  light  that  is  the  peculiar  property  of  things 
that  are  lost.    Even  now  Kubla  Khan  is  a  king  in  dreams ! 

During  the  last  half  of  the  fifteenth  century  Europeans  were 
bent  upon  recovering  their  lost  inheritance.  Although  the  eastern 
routes  were  closed  to  them,  there  yet  remained  the  ocean  at  their 
back.  Already  Prince  Henry  of  Portugal  had  been  sending  his 
ships  farther  and  farther  down  the  African  coast.  Cape  Verde 
was  passed  in  1445;  in  1471  the  equator  was  crossed;  the  mouth 
of  the  Congo  was  found  in  1484;  and  three  years  later  tlie  Cape  of 
Good  Hope  received  its  name.  At  the  close  of  the  century,  after 
having  triumphantly  circumnavigated  Africa,  Vasco  da  Gama  re- 
turned with  ^  "  nutmegs  and  cloves,  pepper  and  ginger,  rubies  and 
emeralds,  damask  robes  with  satin  linings,  bronze  chairs  witli 
'  Prince  Henry  the  Navigator,  Major,  898-401. 


32  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

cushions,  trumpets  of  carved  ivory,  a  sunshade  of  crimson  satin,  a 
sword  in  a  silver  scabbard,  etc."  Europe  was  again  in  contact  with 
the  East. 

While  the  Portuguese  were  hunting  for  the  eastern  passage 
around  Africa,  the  possibility  of  reaching  Asia  by  sailing  directly 
west  had  also  been  suggested.  Before  1474  Toscanelli,  a  Floren- 
tine astronomer,  had  sent  Columbus  a  map  showing  this  direct 
route.    Later,  in  reply  to  Columbus,  he  adds:  ^ 

I  am  very  much  pleased  to  see  that  I  have  been  well  understood,  and  that  the 
voyage  has  become  not  only  possible  but  certain,  fraught  with  honour  as  it  must  be, 
and  inestimable  gain,  and  most  lofty  fame  among  all  Christian  people.  You  cannot 
take  in  all  that  it  means  except  by  actual  experience,  or  without  such  copious  and 
accurate  information  as  I  have  had  from  eminent  and  learned  men  who  have  come 
from  those  places  to  the  Roman  Court,  and  from  merchants  who  have  traded  a  long 
time  in  those  parts,  persons  whose  word  is  to  be  believed  (persone  di  grande  au- 
toritd).  When  that  voyage  shall  be  accomplished,  it  will  be  a  voyage  to  powerful 
kingdoms,  and  to  cities  and  provinces  most  wealthy  and  noble,  abounding  in  all 
sorts  of  things  most  desired  by  us;  I  mean,  with  all  kinds  of  spices  and  jewels  in 
great  abundance.  It  will  also  be  advantageous  for  those  kings  and  princes  who 
are  eager  to  have  dealings  and  make  alliances  with  the  Christians  of  our  countries, 
and  to  learn  from  the  erudite  men  of  these  parts,  as  well  in  religion  as  in  all  other 
branches  of  knowledge. 

The  interest  in  this  well-known  passage  lies  in  the  number  of 
motives  suggested  for  the  undertaking.  To  discover  the  Indies 
would  appeal  equally  to  the  merchant,  to  the  scholar,  and  to  the 
statesman.  Although  indicated  rather  than  mentioned  in  the 
letter,  there  was  another  strong  appeal,  the  desire  to  spread  the 
Christian  religion.  Practically,  then,  the  interest  not  only  of  all 
that  wrote  books  but  also  of  all  that  bought  books  was  excited  by 
this  western  experiment. 

In  literature  the  new  conception  also  made  its  appearance.  In 
the  Morgante  Maggiore  of  Pulci,  the  demon  Astarotte  informs 
Rinaldo  that  beyond  the  Pillars  of  Hercules  in  the  other  hemis- 
phere are  cities,  and  castles,  and  government.  As  the  passage  was 
written  in  1488,  four  years  before  the  voyage  of  Columbus,  at  the 
Florentine  court  the  possibility  of  making  such  a  trip  was  a  matter 
of  common  speculation.  This  does  not,  of  course,  detract  from  the 
splendor  of  Columbus'  achievement;  it  merely  shows  that  in  his 
case,  as  in  that  of  Copernicus,  the  conception  did  not  spring  Min- 

^  Translated  by  Fiske:  Discovery  of  America,  i,  361-362. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        33 

erva-Iike  from  his  single  brain,  but  was  the  offspring  of  many 
minds. 

It  must  be  remembered,  however,  in  discussing  the  effect  upon 
Uterature  of  the  discovery  of  America,  that  it  was  a  long  time  be- 
fore it  was  realized  that  it  was  a  new  world  that  had  been  dis- 
covered. At  first  the  belief  was  that  it  was  the  coast  of  Asia,  and 
later  that  the  American  continent  was  only  an  island  obstructing 
the  route.  The  problem  was  how  to  pass  around  it.  Accordingly, 
the  interest  in  the  discovery  was  at  first  Httle  more  than  curiosity. 
In  January,  1502,  as  we  are  told  in  the  London  Chronicle,  three 
men  were  brought  to  England  "oute  of  an  Hand  founde  by  mer- 
chaimts  of  Bristoll  farre  beyong  Ireland,  the  which  were  clothed 
in  Beeste  skynnes  and  ate  raw  flessh,  and  were  in  their  demeanour 
as  Beests".  In  1508  Barclay,  adapting  Locher's  Latin  version  of 
Brandt's  German  poem,  concludes  that  it  is  all  folly.^ 

For  nowe  of  late  hath  large  londe  and  grounde 
Ben  founde  by  maryners  and  crafty  gouemoura 
The  whiche  londes  were  neuer  knowen  nor  founde 
Byfore  our  tyme  by  our  predecessours 
And  here  after  shall  by  our  successours 
Parchaunce  mo  be  founde,  wherein  men  dwell 
Of  whome  we  neuer  before  this  same  harde  tell 

Ferdynandus  that  late  was  kynge  of  spayne 

Of  londe  and  people  hath  founde  plenty  and  store 

Of  whome  the  bydynge  to  us  was  vncertayne 

No  christen  man  of  them  harde  tell  before 

Thus  is  it  foly  to  tende  unto  the  lore 

And  vnsure  science  of  vayne  geometry 

Syns  none  can  knowe  all  the  worlde  perfytely. 

To  many  people  living  in  1500  the  discovery  of  the  American 
continent  produced  the  same  reaction  as  did  the  discovery  of 
the  North  Pole  to  many  people  living  in  the  twentieth  century. 
There  was  the  thrill  of  adventure  and  of  achievement,  coupled 
with  the  same  doubts  of  utility.  But  as  voyage  followed  voyage, 
as  the  coast  line  became  more  clearly  marked  and  as  colonies 
began  to  be  settled,  the  wonder  of  the  wideness  of  the  world  was 
brought  home  to  them.  Tales  of  Aztecs  and  Incas,  marvellous 
in  very  truth  and  still  more  marvellous  in  the  stories  told  by  the 

»  Ship  of  FooU,  Jamieson,  1874,  ii,  20, 


84  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

soldiers  of  Cortez  and  Pizarro,  spread  over  Europe.  The  effect 
of  these  travellers'  tales  was  to  stimulate  the  imagination.  The 
real  and  the  fabulous  became  confused.  To  the  excited  sailor 
a  manatee  upright  in  the  sea  nursing  its  young  seemed  a  mermaid; 
classic  myth  has  nothing  more  monstrous  than  the  giant  octopus; 
and  Prester  John  himself  is  no  more  improbable  than  Montezuma. 
Our  geography  is  defined  and  exact,  and  illustrated  with  photo- 
graphs; theirs  had  all  the  fascination  of  mystery,  the  intoxication 
of  danger,  and  the  lure  of  romance.  Yet,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
the  significance  of  the  discovery  was  not  appreciated  for  a  long 
time,  the  effect  upon  the  imagination  was  of  gradual  growth,  and 
for  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  it  is  rather  a  general  than 
a  specific  cause  of  literary  inspiration.  Not  until  the  generation 
of  Spenser  and  Shakespeare  and  Raleigh  is  it  possible  to  cite 
concrete  illustrations  of  its  working.  To  them  all  truth  seemed 
unconfined  and  the  human  mind  free  to  wander  at  will.  The  line 
dividing  fact  from  fancy  became  almost  obliterated.  As  Spenser 
playfully  argues,  Faery  land  is  no  more  unreal  than  America.^ 

Right  well  I  wote  most  mighty  Soueraine, 
That  all  this  famous  antique  history, 
Of  some  th'  abundance  of  an  idle  braine 
Will  iudged  be,  and  painted  forgery. 
Rather  then  matter  of  iust  memory, 
Sith  none,  that  breatheth  lining  aire,  does  know. 
Where  is  that  happy  land  of  Faery, 
Which  I  so  much  do  vaunt,  yet  no  where  show. 
But  vouch  antiquities,  which  no  body  can  know 

But  let  that  man  with  better  sence  aduize. 
That  of  the  world  least  part  to  vs  is  red: 
And  dayly  how  through  hardy  enterprize. 
Many  great  Regions  are  discourered. 
Which  to  late  age  were  neuer  mentioned. 
Who  euer  heard  of  th'  Indian  Peru? 
Or  who  in  venturous  vessell  measured 
The  Amazons  huge  river  now  found  trew? 
Or  fniitfullest  Virginia  who  did  euer  vew? 

Yet  all  these  were,  when  no  man  did  them  know; 

Yet  haue  from  wisest  ages  hidden  beene: 

And  later  times  things  more  unknowne  shall  show. 

*  The  Faerie  Queene,  Spenser,  Bk.  ii,  Prologue,  Oxford,  1909. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        35 

Why  then  should  witlesse  man  so  much  misweene 
That  nothing  is,  but  that  which  he  hath  scene? 
What  if  within  the  Moones  faire  shining  spheare? 
What  if  in  euery  other  starre  unseene 
Of  other  worldes  he  happily  should  heare? 
He  wonder  would  much  more:  yet  such  to  some  appeare. 

As  Spenser  here  implies,  this  stimulation  was  not  limited  to 
questions  dealing  only  with  material  subjects;  it  passed  over  also 
into  the  spiritual  realm.    Hamlet's  retort. 

There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy, 

is  characteristic  of  the  age.  The  old  Umits,  grown  hard  and  fixed 
through  the  centuries,  were  broken  and  the  imagination  grew  with 
the  wonders  it  fed  on.  Literature,  which  without  this  third  factor 
might  have  been  confined  to  close  analysis  such  as  is  the  Prince 
of  Macchiavelli,  became  broad  as  life  itself. 

And,  as  imagination  bodies  forth 
The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  poet's  pen 
Turns  them  to  shape,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name. 

At  this  critical  moment  in  the  development  of  Europe  when 
these  three  great  ideas  were  to  change  to  the  smallest  detail  the 
outlook  on  Ufe,  came  the  invention  of  printing  by  movable  type. 
Previously  the  number  of  books  had  been  few  and  the  texts  in- 
accurate. The  catalogue  of  the  library  of  Oriel  College  in  1375 
lists  only  one  hundred  items,  and  yet  this  was  a  famous  collection. 
Chaucer's  scholar  dreams  of  twenty!  By  this  new  method  books 
became  accessible  to  the  many  and  the  texts  were  based  upon  the 
collation  of  manuscripts.  Still  more,  a  new  work  could  spread 
over  Europe  in  a  comparatively  short  time.  The  all-pervasiveness 
of  the  printed  page  today  has  obscured  for  most  of  us  the  im- 
portance of  the  press  in  our  daily  life;  like  the  air  we  breathe  we 
are  conscious  of  it  only  when  something  goes  wrong.  Although 
the  old  proverb.  Vita  sine  lihris  est  murtis  imago,  would  relegate 
the  great  mass  of  medieval  life  to  the  mortuary,  yet  our  modern 
life  is  dependent  to  a  very  great  degree  upon  our  mental  contact 


36  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

with  our  fellows.  Progress  is  due  not  so  much  to  the  individual 
but  to  the  united  eflFort  of  all  working  in  the  same  field,  a  condition 
which  impUes  that  the  individual  must  himself  be  conscious  of  his 
fellow  workmen.  Such  unity  of  thought  as  is  here  required  is 
given  by  the  press.  Without  its  invention  the  other  three  factors 
would  have  operated,  doubtless,  and  in  time  man's  spirit  would 
have  been  freed.  But  without  question  the  time  would  have  been 
incomparably  longer.  As  it  was,  the  invention  of  printing  came 
at  a  time  when  man  was  full  of  utterance  and  by  it  his  voice  was 
carried  everywhere.  It  was  in  vain  that  laws  were  passed  against 
the  influx  of  the  Lutheran  heresy;  in  vain  that  Calvin  was  con- 
demned; Tyndall's  Bible,  printed  in  the  Netherlands,  found  its 
way  to  all  parts  of  England.  The  Devil  had  to  be  fought  with 
fire,  and  the  greater  proportion  of  More's  works  are  controversial 
and  in  English.  Even  the  King  himself  was  forced  to  enter  the 
arena.  By  the  invention  of  the  press  the  nation  was  rendered 
sensitive  to  every  fresh  current  of  thought.  Public  opinion  was 
created, — a  fact  that  explains  the  position  of  Erasmus  and  the 
power  of  Aretino.  And  finally,  by  the  reaction  of  mind  on  mind 
due  to  its  agency,  is  evolved  the  modern  man. 

Such  is  the  Renaissance,  the  re-birth.  Of  course  the  term  is  a 
misnomer,  in  that  life  is  necessarily  continuous  and  these  four 
factors  operated  through  an  extended  period  of  time.  Yet  it 
makes  the  sixteenth  century  a  period  set  apart.  As  Wordsworth 
says  of  the  cataclysmic  years  of   the  French  Revolution, 

Bliss  was  it  in  that  dawn  to  be  alive; 
But  to  be  young  was  very  heaven.    O  times 
In  which  the  meager,  stale,  forbidding  ways 
Of  custom,  law,  and  statute  took  at  once 
The  attraction  of  a  country  in  romance. 

so  here  there  was  the  same  receptibility  of  impression.  As  in  the 
life  of  an  individual  it  is  platitudinous  to  say  that  the  clock  does 
measure  his  life,  so  a  nation  or  a  race  seems  at  some  times  to  live 
more  intensely  than  at  others.  The  long,  slow,  fat  years  of  peaceful 
sloth  are  followed  by  others  of  great  intellectual  activity  and  of 
strenuous  intellectual  endeavor.  Such  a  time  was  the  Renaissance. 
By  the  four  great  factors,  which  have  just  been  outlined,  all  men 
were  aflFected — ^but  they  were  not  affected  equally  by  all  factors. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        37 

nor  all  by  any  one  factor  to  an  equal  degree.  One  man  might  be 
interested  in  the  humanistic  revival,  but  might  believe  that  scien- 
tific interests  were  negligible  and  that  the  Reformation  was  the 
work  of  unlettered  barbarians;  whereas  another,  equally  sincere 
and  equally  of  the  age,  might  feel  that  the  Rome  of  Leo  was  the 
Beast  of  Revelations  and  Leo  himself  the  incarnate  Anti-Christ. 
The  Renaissance  seems  to  consist  of  a  bewildering  variety  of 
brilliant  individuals,  with  nothing  in  common  except  that  the 
characteristics  of  each  are  described  with  a  superiative.  Great 
saints,  Saint  Theresa;  great  sinners,  Cesar  Borgia;  great  thinkers, 
Macchiavelli;  great  scientists,  Copernicus;  great  scholars,  Budeus; 
great  artists,  Leonardo;  great  poets,  Ariosto;  great  knights, 
Bayard;  great  blaggards,  Aretino.  Names  at  hazard  throng  the 
mind,  each  a  vivid  personality  and  one  which  the  world  has  not 
forgotten.  The  same  paradoxical  contrast  may  be  found  even 
within  the  limits  of  a  single  life.  More,  who  has  been  beatified, 
argued  for  religious  toleration,  wore  a  haircloth  shirt  and  prided 
himself  on  jjersecuting  heretics.  Henry,  the  Defender  of  the  Faiths 
was  the  fij*st  Protestant  king  of  England.  There  is  no  need  to  pile 
up  instances.  Forces  that  had  been  accumulating  for  centuries 
had  broken  loose,  swirling  in  a  mighty  whirlpool  and  engulfing 
all.  But  the  effect  of  the  forces  on  any  individual  varied  accord- 
ing to  his  temperament  and  according  to  the  time.  What  is  true 
of  one  man  is  not  necessarily  true  of  another;  what  is  true  of  one 
man  at  a  certain  time  is  not  necessarily  true  of  the  same  man  at 
another  time.  The  total  result  is  bewildering  because  each  par- 
ticle is  in  constant  motion, — and  therein  lies  the  fascination  of 
the  study. 

Up  to  this  point  the  general  reasoning,  with  a  change  in  dating, 
would  be  applicable  to  any  of  the  European  countries,  and  the 
illustrations  might  have  been  drawn  from  any  one  of  them.  When 
the  reasoning  is  narrowed  specifically  to  England,  however,  still 
another  factor  is  introduced,  the  social  conditions  there,  because 
literature  like  every  other  commodity  obeys  the  laws  of  supply  and 
demand.  The  buyer  buys  the  book  because  he  wishes  to  read  it; 
he  wishes  to  read  it  because  he  finds  it  interesting.  The  popular- 
ity of  a  book  in  any  given  section  is,  therefore,  a  direct  indication 
of  the  state  of  mind  of  the  people  in  that  section.  Conversely, 
since  an  author  composes  in  the  exp>ectation  that  his  work  will  be 


38  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

read,  the  kind  of  work  done  is  conditioned  by  the  public  state  of 
mind.  However  true  this  statement  of  the  relationship  between 
the  author  and  his  pubUc  is  now,  the  same  statement  holds  to  a 
still  greater  degree  in  the  Renaissance.  Men  of  education,  namely 
both  the  writers  and  the  readers,  tended  automatically  to  collect 
around  a  court,  and  in  each  court  there  was  a  definite  literary  pub- 
lic and  literary  opinion.  Each  Italian  state,  for  example,  produced 
a  local  school,  which  differed  in  its  output  from  the  others.  The 
Neapolitan  differs  from  the  Tuscan,  the  Tuscan  from  the  Ferra- 
rese,  etc.,  and  it  is  not  until  the  Spanish  domination,  after  1530, 
that  the  writers  lose  their  distinguishing  characteristics  in  the 
bathos  of  Petrarchan  imitation.  In  England  also,  so  far  as  it  is  a 
question  of  formal  literature,  it  was  limited  to  court  circles.  London 
dominates.  In  the  first  place,  the  country  was  so  scantily  popu- 
lated that  it  attracted  the  attention  of  the  ItaUan  Traveller.^ 

I  rode,  as  your  Magnificence  knows,  from  Dover  to  London,  and  from  London  to 
Oxford,  a  distance  of  more  than  200  Italian  miles,  and  it  seemed  to  me  to  be  very 
thinly  inhabited;  but,  lest  the  way  I  went  with  your  Magnificence  should  have 
diflFered  from  the  other  parts  of  the  country,  I  enquired  of  those  who  rode  to  the 
north  of  the  kingdom,  i.  e.  to  the  borders  of  Scotland,  and  was  told  that  it  was  the 
same  case  there;  nor  was  there  any  variety  in  the  report  of  those  who  went  to 
Bristol  and  into  Cornwall. 

His  observation  is  supported  by  modern  researches.  In  the  fif- 
teenth and  sixteenth  centuries,  York  had  declined  "in  inhabitants 
as  well  as  in  position  and  wealth."  ^  By  1547  the  number  of  people 
in  Plymouth  had  fallen  from  the  medieval  count  over  fifty  per 
cent.^  The  great  western  and  central  cities,  with  the  exception  of 
Bristol,  are  relatively  modem.  Clearly  war  and  the  plague  had 
done  their  work.  In  the  second  place,  not  only  were  the  provinces 
less  important,  but,  measured  in  time,  they  were  more  distant. 
For  example,  in  1515  the  Venetian  ambassador  spent  a  day  on  the 
road  between  Dover  and  Canterbury.  Travelling  was  not  only 
incommodious,  it  was  also  dangerous.^    Small  parties  slowly  pick- 

1  Ibid.,  31. 

*  Jas.  Raine,  History  of  York,  202. 

»  R.  N.  Worth,  History  of  Plymouth,  26. 

*  R.  Brown,  Four  Years  at  the  Court  of  Henry  VIII,  I,  60.  For  the  general  condi- 
tion, cf.  the  long  note  in  Croft's  edition  of  Elyot's  Gouemour,  ii,  81-84,  where  the 
legislative  acts  are  given. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        39 

ing  their  way  over  miry  and  nitty  roads  were  liable  to  be  set  upon 
by  thieves,  so  liable,  in  fact,  that  in  1506  Quirini  in  the  suite  of 
Philip  preferred  to  await  his  master  several  months  rather  than 
brave  the  dangers  of  the  road  to  London.^  That  this  fear  was 
only  slightly  exaggerated  is  shown  by  the  comment  of  the  Italian:  ^ 

There  is  no  country  in  the  world  where  there  are  so  many  thieves  and  robbers  as 
in  England;  insomuch,  that  few  venture  to  go  alone  in  the  cotmtry,  excepting  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  and  fewer  still  in  the  towns  at  night,  and  least  of  all  in  London. 

Geographically,  culture,  so  far  as  it  found  expression  in  formal 
literature,  was  almost  confined  to  the  south  of  England. 

The  expression  "formal  Uterature"  has  been  used  to  differen- 
tiate the  type  of  work  which  will  be  considered  in  the  following 
chapters  from  the  ballads  with  which  we  have  no  concern.  The 
scarcity  of  population  and  the  difficulty  of  communication  give 
the  explanation  to  the  phenonenon  that  in  the  Renaissance  two 
different  literatures  existed  simultaneously  and,  as  it  were,  in  par- 
allel planes.  In  the  first,  the  authors  are  generally  known;  they 
are  connected  with  the  Court;  the  composition  is  pretentious, 
follows  definite  models,  and  is  responsive  to  European  influences: 
in  the  second,  the  authors  are  generally  anonymous;  the  com- 
position is  simple,  and  follows  the  ballad  form.  The  antithesis 
between  these  two  may  be  carried  indefinitely.  Court  poetry 
deals  with  Euro|>ean  subject  matter,  often  after  European  models; 
the  ballads  deal  primarily  with  English  subjects,  usually  in  the 
conventional  quatrain:  nature  in  the  first  is  seen  through  books; 
in  the  second  it  is  studied  from  life;  action  in  the  first  is  slow  and 
detailed;  in  the  second  it  is  rapid  and  suggested;  the  art  of  the 
first  is  studied  and  formal;  in  the  second  it  is  spontaneous  and  real. 
It  is  to  be  added  that  references  in  the  first  class  to  poems  of  the 
second  class  are  apt  to  be  supercilious,^  and  lastly  that,  while 
the  little  skiffs  of  the  second  class  have  triumphantly  floated 
down  the  centuries,  the  great  galleons  of  the  first  have  succumbed 
to  wind  and  weather. 

Another  feature  to  be  considered  for  its  effect  upon  the  liter- 
ature is  the  political  situation.     When,  August  twenty-second, 

»  England  under  the  Tudors,  by  Dr.  WUhelm  Busch.  1895,  i,  25S. 

*  Itcdian  Relation,  ibid.,  34. 

'  I  wryte  no  lest  ne  tale  of  Robyn  bode.    Barclay,  Ship  of  FooU,  Jamleaon,  ii,  SSI. 


40  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

1485,  the  crown  which  had  rolled  from  the  head  of  Richard  IV 
was  picked  from  the  hawthome  bush  to  be  placed  upon  that  of 
Henry,  Duke  of  Richmond,  the  old  order  had  passed.  The  long 
struggle  between  York  and  Lancaster,  which  history  poetically 
calls  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  had  necessarily  been  unfavorable 
to  authors.  Scarcely  a  writer  survives  as  a  personality,  with  the 
exception  of  Lydgate  and  Occleve  whose  works  are  read  only  by 
specialists.  With  the  exception  of  the  ballads  there  are  few  pieces 
that  have  any  interest  beyond  the  philological.  This  condition 
is  not  surprising.  England  had  suffered  the  throes  of  civil  war  for 
generations  and  war,  although  it  may  offer  subject  matter  for  liter- 
ature, rarely  grants  the  leisure  necessary  for  composition.  Yet 
too  much  emphasis  must  not  be  placed  up>on  these  wars  in  dis- 
cussing the  literary  output,  because  their  action  was  sporadic. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  Caxton  was  apparently  placidly 
issuing  his  books  at  Westminster  when  Edward  IV  was  still  upon 
the  throne,  while  Richard  III  had  usurped  the  power  by  the 
murder  of  his  nephews,  and  during  the  battle  of  Bosworth  Field. 
The  reign  of  Edward  IV  of  twenty-two  years  had  given  stability 
that,  in  spite  of  the  episodic  career  of  Richard  III,  was  continued 
by  Henry  VII.  To  establish  his  dynasty  upon  a  firm  foundation 
was  the  first  problem  of  the  new  monarch.  Henry's  claim  to  the 
throne  was  at  best  questionable.  The  direct  Plantagenet  line  had 
ceased  with  the  deposition  of  Richard  II,  the  son  of  the  Black 
Prince  and  grandson  of  Edward  III.  The  Lancastrian  branch 
claimed  descent  from  John  of  Gaunt,  the  fourth  son  of  Edward 
III,  and  the  York  branch  from  Edmund  Langley,  the  fifth  son. 
But  Henry  Tudor  claimed  descent  only  from  an  illegitimate  con- 
nection of  John  of  Gaunt  with  Katherine  Swynford,  a  connection 
that  had  been  legitimized  by  Richard  II,  but  whose  descendants 
had  been  excluded  from  the  throne  by  Henry  IV.  Moreover, 
Henry  Tudor  derived  his  right  through  his  mother,  and  if  descent 
through  the  distaff  side  were  accepted,  all  the  Yorkist  heirs  had 
a  prior  claim.  Even  the  choice  of  him  to  lead  the  insurrection  was 
apparently  due  to  Archbishop  Morton,  the  patron  of  More.  At 
the  battle  he  had  only  five  thousand  soldiers  and  the  victory  was 
gained  by  the  aid  at  the  decisive  moment  of  three  thousand  more 
under  WilUam  Stanley.  His  right  to  the  throne  consisted  in  his 
being  considered  the  most  valuable  man  in  his  party  and  his  pos- 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        41 

session  of  it  was  due  to  troops  over  whom  he  had  no  control.  Under 
such  circumstances  his  seat  was  far  from  secure.  Evidently  with 
this  in  mind  the  Italian  remarks:  ^ 

This  kingdom  has  been,  for  the  last  600  years,  governed  by  one  king,  who  is  not 
elected,  but  succeeds  by  hereditary  right.  Should  there  be  no  direct  heir,  and  the 
succession  be  disputed,  the  question  is  often  settled  by  the  force  of  arms.  .  .  . 
And,  heretofore,  it  has  always  been  an  understood  thing,  that  he  who  lost  the  day 
lost  the  kingdom. 

In  relation  to  the  attitude  of  the  people  toward  their  sovereign  he 
says:  ^ 

,  .  .  but  from  what  I  understand  few  of  them  are  very  loyal.  They  generally  hate 
their  present  and  extol  their  dead  sovereigns. 

Such  was  the  condition  confronting  Henry  Tudor. 

To  meet  the  problem  the  first  act  of  the  new  reign  was  the 
authorization  of  his  title  by  Parliament.  Then  by  marriage  with 
Elizabeth,  the  heiress  of  the  Yorkist  faction,  Henry  united  in  his 
children  the  claims  of  the  two  parties.  The  necessity  for  such 
action  is  apparent  in  the  light  of  the  insurrection  of  Lambert 
Sinmel,  personating  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  a  possible  Yorkist  heir, 
and  of  Peter  Warbeck,  personating  one  of  the  princes  murdered 
in  the  tower.  Later,  by  means  of  the  marriage  of  his  son  Arthur 
to  the  Infanta  of  Spain,  he  gained  Europ>ean  recognition  for  his 
dynasty.  Beyond  this,  his  policy  may  be  defined  as  avoidance 
of  foreign  complications,  conciliatory  measures  at  home,  and  an 
accumulation  of  treasure  that  would  enable  him  to  be  independent 
of  Parliament.  His  success  in  the  last  of  these  aims  may  be  esti- 
mated from  the  fact  that  in  1497  the  Milanese  ambassador  valued 
his  treasure  at  £1,350,000, — a  sum  so  vast,  considering  the  pur- 
chasing power  of  money  at  that  time,  that  it  seems  an  incredible 
amount  to  have  been  amassed  in  twelve  years.  In  discussing  the 
social  factors  affecting  the  early  years  of  Henry  VIII,  then,  these 
two  must  be  borne  in  mind;  first,  a  sense  of  social  inferiority  with 
other  sovereigns,  a  feeling  none  the  less  strong  because  it  was 
never  expressed,  and  second,  the  possession  of  this  large  amount 
of  ready  money.    The  first  gave  Henry  the  desire  and  the  second 

>  It4dian  Relation,  ibid.,  46.  «  Ibid. 


42  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  means  for  the  somewhat  vulgar  love  of  display  so  character- 
istic of  his  Court. 

To  this  analysis  of  early  Tudor  society  one  more  factor,  and 
that  the  most  important  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  type  of 
literature  produced  at  the  Court,  must  be  added,  namely  the 
personalities  of  the  rulers.  The  modem  reader  must  remember 
that,  as  there  was  no  reading  public,  there  was  no  such  thing  as 
the  profession  of  letters.  Authorship  was  merely  incidental.  For 
example,  Hawes  was  Groom  of  the  Chamber  to  Henry  VII, 
Barclay  a  monk,  Skelton  first  royal  tutor  and  then  Rector  of  Diss, 
More  a  lawyer,  Heywood  a  courtier,  Surrey  and  Wyatt  nobles, 
etc.  Writing  books  was  a  side  issue,  a  polite  accomplishment. 
And  the  hterature  of  the  Court  has  a  personal,  intimate,  almost 
epistolary  tone;  while  occasionally  books  were  written  addressed 
to  all  England,  such  as  the  Ship  of  Fools,  they  were  usually  com- 
posed with  a  definite  circle  of  readers  before  the  mind  of  the  writer. 
Caxton's  prefaces  are  really  open  letters.  His  allusion  to  Skelton, 
for  example,  in  the  dedication  to  his  Eneydos  would  be  understood 
because  the  majority  of  his  readers  knew  Skelton  personally.  It 
was  a  small  world.  And  in  this  world  dominated  naturally  the 
personality  of  the  king.  He  it  was  that  could  make,  or  mar,  a 
writer's  fortune,  his  approbation  meant  success,  and  his  disapproval 
spelled  failure.  Of  the  two  Tudor  kings,  Henry  VII  may  be  dis- 
missed with  few  words.  During  his  reign  modem  English  htera- 
ture is  just  beginning.  His  preference  was  for  French,  due  to  his 
early  residence  abroad,  and  a  Frenchman  AndrS  was  his  ofBcial 
historiographer.  He  was  fond  of  music  and  encouraged  song- 
writing,  again  especially  in  foreign  languages.  His  account  book 
shows  various  items  paid  for  books,  unfortunately  omitting  the 
titles.  Once  only  does  it  state  that  Verard  received  six  pounds  for 
printing  two  volumes  entitled  the  Gardyn  of  Helih.  To  the  Con- 
ventual monastery  at  Greenwich  he  presented  a  "valuable" 
Ubraiy.  And  he  advanced  Pynson  ten  pounds  to  enable  him  to 
print  a  book  of  the  mass.  These  meager  details  show  merely  that 
he  was  not  averse  to  learning.  Probably  the  great  problems  of 
statecraft  had  absorbed  his  energies,  leaving  him  slight  inclination 
for  literature. 

Henry  VIH,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  protagonist  of  the  Renais- 
sance in  England.    Early  in  his  lifetime  the  hope  of  the  nation 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        43 

centered  upon  him.  Hawes,  in  a  poem  dedicated  to  Henry  VII, 
after  celebrating  the  virtues  of  his  father  and  mother,  thus  eulo- 
gizes the  young  prince  in  a  burst  of  lyric  exuberance.^ 

Thus  God,  by  grace  did  well  combine 

The  Red  Rose  and  the  White  in  marriage. 
Being  oned,  right  clear  doth  shine 
In  all  cleanness  and  virtuous  courage; 
Of  whose  right  and  royal  lineage. 

Prince  Henry  is  sprung,  our  King  to  be. 
After  his  father,  by  right  good  equity. 

O,  noble  Prince  Henry!  our  second  treasure. 

Surmounting  in  virtue  and  mirror  of  beauty! 
O,  gem  of  gentleness  and  lantern  of  pleasure! 
O,  rubicund  blossom  and  star  of  humility! 
O,  famous  bud,  full  of  benignity! 
I  pray  to  God  well  for  to  increase 
Your  high  Estate  in  rest  and  peace! 

Shortly  before  this  comes  the  celebrated  account  of  Erasmus.^ 

I  was  stajring  at  Lord  Mountjoy's  country  house  when  Thomas  More  came  to  see 
me,  and  took  me  out  with  him  for  a  walk  as  far  as  the  next  village,  where  all  the 
King's  children,  except  Prince  Arthur,  who  was  then  the  eldest  son,  were  being 
educated.  When  we  came  into  the  hall,  the  attendants  not  only  of  the  palace,  but 
also  of  Mountjoy's  household,  were  all  assembled.  In  the  midst  stood  Prince 
Henry,  then  nine  years  old,  and  having  already  something  of  royalty  in  his  de- 
meanour, in  which  there  was  a  certain  dignity  combined  with  singular  courtesy. 
On  his  right  was  Margaret,  about  eleven  years  of  age,  afterwards  married  to  James, 
King  of  Scots;  and  on  his  left  played  Mary,  a  child  of  four.  Edmund  was  an  in- 
fant in  arms.  More,  with  his  companion  Arnold,  after  paying  his  respects  to  the 
boy  Henry,  the  same  that  is  now  King  of  England,  presented  him  with  some  writing. 
For  my  part,  not  having  expected  anything  of  the  sort,  I  had  nothing  to  offer,  but 
promised  that  on  another  occasion  I  would  in  some  way  declare  my  duty  towards 
him.  Meantime  I  was  angry  with  More  for  not  having  warned  me,  especially  as  the 
boy  sent  me  a  little  note,  while  we  were  at  dinner,  to  challenge  something  from  my 
pen.  I  went  home,  and  in  the  Muses*  spite,  from  whom  I  had  been  so  long  di- 
vorced, finished  the  poem  within  three  days. 

The  popular  conception  of  Henry  as  only  a  bestial  corpulent 
tyrant  must  be  revised  if  one  is  to  understand  the  age.    In  every 

» Hawes,  Example  of  Virtue,  295-296,  Dunbar  Anthology,  ed.  Arber,  294. 
*  Eputlet  of  Erasmus.  F.  M.  Nichols,  i,  201. 


44  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

way,  physically,  mentally,  morally,  he  was  the  personified  ideal. 
To  the  people  at  large  he  seemed  the  embodiment  of  the  typical 
Englishman.  His  delight  in  archery,  in  wrestling,  in  joust  and  in 
tourney,  his  skill  on  the  tennis  court  and  his  boldness  at  the  hunt, 
thrilled  men  to  whom  mental  attainment  meant  Uttle.  As  Pro- 
fessor Pollard  aptly  remarks:  * 

"Suppose  there  ascended  the  throne  today  a  young  Prince,  the 
hero  of  the  athletic  world,  the  finest  oar,  the  best  bat,  the  crack 
marksman  of  his  day,  it  is  easy  to  imagine  the  enthusiastic  support 
he  would  receive  from  thousands  of  his  people  who  care  much  for 
sport,  and  nothing  at  all  for  poUtics."  But  mentally  he  was 
equally  fortunate  in  pleasing  the  scholar.  His  education  had 
been  unusually  careful, — to  such  a  degree  that  Lord  Herbert  of 
Cherbury,  a  century  later,  was  led  to  assume  that  he  had  been 
destined  for  the  Church.  He  knew  Latin  well,  spoke  French 
easily,  understood  Italian,  and  later  acquired  Spanish.  His 
father's  love  of  music  he  had  inherited;  he  composed  pieces,  one 
of  which,  Pastime  with  good  company,  is  occasionally  heard  now. 
He  set  the  example  to  his  Court  in  making  verses,  both  in  English 
and  French.  He  was  an  enthusiastic  humanist,  defending  the 
"Greeks"  against  the  "Trojans"  at  Oxford,  and  attracted  many 
men  of  learning  to  his  Court.  Finally  in  1521  his  book  against 
Luther  was  finished, — ^a  work  that,  however  much  revised  by 
others,  was  yet  his  own, — ^and  the  Pope  granted  him  the  title 
Fidei  Defensor.  He  was  certainly  distinguished  for  his  excellences 
for  the  first  half  of  his  reign.  The  Venetian  ambassador,  repre- 
senting the  shrewdest  court  in  Europe,  would  have  no  object  in 
giving  an  account  untrue  because  flattering,  since  his  letter  would 
be  read  only  by  his  own  rulers  in  Venice.  His  report  would  be 
marked  by  calm  analysis,  because  its  object  was  to  enable  the 
Venetian  Council  to  estimate  the  character  of  the  King  as  a  leading 
piece  in  the  game  of  European  politics.  The  following  repKjrt  was, 
therefore,  a  statement  of  the  facts  as  seen  by  the  writer,  and  is 
free  from  the  suspicion  of  self-interest  that  might  be  inferred  in 
the  case  of  an  EngUshman,  or  even  of  Erasmus.^ 

» Henry  VIII,  A.  F.  Pollard,  41. 

*  Calendar  of  State  Papers  and  Mamucrij^,  Relating  to  English  Affairs,  Existing 
in  the  Archives  and  collections  of  Venice,  and  in  other  libraries  of  Northern  Italy,  ed.  by 
Rawdon  Brown,  1871,  iv,  293. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        45 

In  this  Eighth  Henry,  God  combined  such  corporal  and  mental  beauty,  as  not 
merely  to  surprise  but  to  astound  all  men.  Who  could  fail  to  be  struck  with  ad- 
miration on  perceiving  the  lofty  position  of  so  glorious  a  prince  to  be  in  such  ac- 
cordance with  his  stature,  giving  manifest  proof  of  that  intrinsic  mental  superiority 
which  is  inherent  in  him?  His  face  is  angelic  rather  than  handsome;  his  head 
imperial  (Cesarina)  and  bald,  and  he  wears  a  beard,  contrary  to  English  custom. 
Who  would  not  be  amazed  when  contemplating  such  singular  corporal  beauty, 
coupled  with  such  bold  address,  adapting  itself  with  the  greatest  ease  to  every 
manly  exercise.  He  sits  his  horse  well,  and  manages  him  yet  better;  he  jousts  and 
wields  his  spear,  throws  the  quoit,  and  draws  the  bow,  admirably;  plays  at  tennis 
most  dexterously;  and  nature  having  endowed  him  in  youth  with  such  gifts,  he  was 
not  slow  to  enhance,  preserve  and  augment  them  with  all  industry  and  labour.  It 
seeming  to  him  monstrous  for  a  prince  not  to  cultivate  moral  and  intellectual  ex- 
cellence, so  from  childhood  he  applied  himself  to  grammatical  studies,  and  then  to 
philosophy  and  holy  writ,  thus  obtaining  the  reputation  of  a  lettered  and  excellent 
Prince.  Besides  the  Latin  and  his  native  tongue,  he  learned  Spanish,  French,  and 
Italian.  He  is  kind  and  affable,  full  of  graciousness  and  courtesy,  and  liberal; 
particularly  so  to  men  of  science  {virtuosi),  whom  he  is  never  weary  of  obliging. 

Such  a  characterization,  however  false  it  may  appear  to  modem 
eyes,  enables  us  to  comprehend  the  exultation  in  England  upon 
Henry's  accession  that  is  shown  by  Mountjoy  in  his  letter  to 
Erasmus.^ 

What,  my  dear  Erasmus,  may  you  not  look  for  from  a  prince,  whose  great  qual- 
ities no  one  knows  better  than  yourself,  and  who  not  only  is  no  stranger  to  you,  but 
esteems  you  so  highly !  He  has  written  to  you,  as  you  will  perceive,  under  his  own 
hand,  an  honour  which  falls  but  to  few.  Could  you  but  see  how  nobly  he  is  bearing 
himself,  how  wise  he  is,  his  love  for  all  that  is  good  and  right,  and  espcially  his  love 
for  men  of  learning,  you  would  need  no  wings  to  fly  into  the  light  of  this  new  risen 
and  salutary  star.  Oh,  Erasmus,  could  you  but  witness  the  universal  joy,  could  you 
but  see  how  proud  our  people  are  of  their  new  sovereign,  you  would  weep  for  pleas- 
ure. Heaven  smiles,  earth  triumphs,  and  flows  with  milk  and  honey  and  nectar. 
This  king  of  ours  is  no  seeker  after  gold,  or  gems,  or  mines  of  silver.  He  desires  only 
the  fame  of  virtue  and  eternal  life.  I  was  lately  in  his  presence.  He  said  that  he 
regretted  that  he  was  still  so  ignorant;  I  told  him  that  the  nation  did  not  want  him 
to  be  himself  learned,  the  nation  wanted  him  only  to  encourage  learning.  He  re- 
plied that  without  knowledge  life  would  not  be  worth  our  having. 

With  such  a  paragon  on  the  throne  no  wonder  men  looked  for  a 

new  Golden  Age!     Literature  and  Learning  united  to  call  him 

blessed  and  the  Renaissance  in  England  was  incarnate  in  her  King. 

In  modem  opinion  this  aspect  of  Henry's  character  is  apt  to  be 

'  Lije  and  LetUrt  of  Erasmus,  J.  A.  Proude,  90. 


4d  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

obscured  by  the  moral  issue  and  that  in  turn  to  be  discussed  in 
tenns  of  abstract  morality.  Of  a  king  that  married  six  wives,  ex- 
ecuted two  and  divorced  two,  that  sent  to  the  block  More  and 
Fisher,  that,  using  men  as  his  instruments,  ruthlessly  abandoned 
them  when  they  no  longer  served  his  purpose,  what  good  can  be 
said?  And  it  was  under  this  king,  also,  that  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land separated  from  the  Church  of  Rome, — ^a  fact  which  has  biassed 
many  writers.  Moral  standards,  however,  vary  from  age  to  age. 
In  accordance  with  the  standards  of  his  age,  Henry's  character 
stands  as  high  certainly  as  those  of  his  fellow  sovereigns,  higher 
in  fact  than  that  of  the  profligate  Francis.  And  although  it  is  true 
that  during  the  lifetime  of  Katherine  Henry  had  at  least  two  illicit 
connections,  it  is  equally  true  that  it  was  not  on  that  account  that 
moral  indignation  was  excited  against  him.  The  peculiarity  of 
his  case  lies  in  the  fact  that  he  tried  to  legalize  his  amours  in  order 
to  legitimize  the  possible  heir  to  the  throne.  Even  in  his  excesses 
he  showed  care  for  the  State.  That  he  was  far  from  the  sensual 
monstrosity  of  popular  legend  is  also  shown  by  the  comparative 
purity  of  the  literature.^  That  the  age  was  coarse  and  brutal  is  ob- 
vious; the  astonishing  feature  is  that,  in  comparison  with  either 
the  Italian  or  the  French,  the  English  literature  is  so  pure  in  in- 
tention. And  if,  as  has  been  suggested.  Court  literature  takes  its 
color  from  the  character  of  the  king,  this  freedom  from  the  erotic 
must  be  due,  at  least  to  some  degree,  to  Henry  himself. 

Henry's  dominance  of  his  age  seems  perplexing.  His  acts  seem 
those  of  a  tyrant,  callously  shedding  the  blood  of  the  noblest  and 
the  best,  and  carelessly  sacrificing  any  interest  in  opposition  to  his 
own.    Professor  Pollard's  statement  of  the  enigma  is  worth  quoting.^ 

Henry's  standing  army  consisted  of  a  few  gentlemen  pensioners  and  yeomen  of 
the  guard;  he  had  neither  secret  poHce  nor  organized  bureaucracy.  Even  then 
Englishmen  boasted  that  they  were  not  slaves  like  the  French,  and  foreigners 
pointed  a  finger  of  scorn  at  their  turbulence.  Had  they  not  permanently  or  tem- 
porarily deprived  of  j)ower  nearly  half  their  kings  who  had  reigned  since  William 
the  Conqueror?  Yet  Henry  VHI  not  only  left  them  their  arms,  but  repeatedly 
urged  them  to  keep  those  arms  ready  for  use.  He  eschewed  that  air  of  mystery 
with  which  tyrants  have  usually  sought  to  impose  on  the  mind  of  the  people.  All 
his  life  he  moved  familiarly  and  almost  unguarded  in  the  midst  of  his  subjects,  and 

'  English  conditions  are  almost  omitted  in  the  renaissance  chapter  of  Das  Ero- 
tische  Element  in  der  Karikaiur  by  Eduard  Fuchs. 
2  Henry  VIII,  ibid..  3. 


THE  BACKGROUND  TO  THE  LITERATURE        47 

he  died  in  his  bed,  full  of  years,  with  the  spell  of  his  power  unbroken  and  the  terror 
of  his  name  unimpaired. 

The  answer  is  that  in  Henry  two  antagonistic  points  of  view  found 
expression.  The  nation  at  large  had  learned  from  the  bitter  lesson 
of  the  late  wars  the  value  of  stable  government.  To  it  Henry  rep- 
resented, just  as  his  daughter  Elizabeth  did  in  the  second  half  of 
the  century,  the  personified  State.  His  sudden  death,  or  death 
without  heirs,  threatened  anarchy.  Therefore  Parliament  in  any 
crisis  was  wilUng  to  legalize  his  action.  By  Pariiament  and  by  the 
nation  any  individual,  even  as  reverend  as  Fisher  or  as  saintly  as 
More,  would  be  sacrificed  if  his  Kving  endangered  the  common 
good,  irrespective  of  abstract  justice.  There  is,  consequently,  the 
anomaly  that,  if  Henry  be  a  criminal,  the  English  nation  was  parti- 
ceps  criminis.  Henry  himself,  on  the  other  hand,  was  saved  from 
the  sense  of  this  paralyzing  responsibility,  by  the  individualism 
characteristic  of  the  whole  Renaissance.  So  both  parties  accepted 
the  sentiment  of  Louis  XIV,  L'Hat  c'est  moi, — with  this  essential 
difference,  however,  that  the  nation  stressed  the  subject  of  the 
sentence  and  the  sovereign  the  predicate.  This  condition  appears 
but  once  more  in  English  history,  in  Henry's  daughter  Elizabeth. 
In  both  cases  there  is  a  despotic  government,  conducted  along 
parliamentary  lines,  yet  the  sovereign,  both  by  himself  and  the 
nation,  is  considered  to  represent  the  nation.  The  result  in  each 
case  was  a  strong  popular  government,  and,  historically,  the  domi- 
nance of  England.  Through  the  turmoil  of  that  age  the  nation 
led  by  her  King  passed  in  almost  unbroken  calm.  The  great 
question  of  the  separation  from  the  Papacy  was  settled  in  England 
without  a  French  Saint  Bartholomew,  or  a  German  civil  strife; 
through  almost  continuous  years  of  peace  the  martial  prestige 
of  England  steadily  grew;  and  a  country  which  at  his  birth  was 
rent  by  innumerable  internal  dissensions,  at  his  death  was  strong 
and  unified;  the  dynasty,  started  by  his  usurping  father,  was  so 
well  established  by  him  that  his  daughter,  Mary  Tudor,  had  but 
to  appear  to  have  all  England  hail  her  as  queen.  Without  an 
appreciation  of  the  magnitude  of  his  accomplishment,  the  litera- 
ture of  his  reign  seems  merely  a  sporadic  development,  and  with- 
out an  appreciation  of  the  literature  of  his  reign,  the  great  litera- 
ture of  the  Elizabetlian  age,  of  Shakespeare  and  of  Spenser,  is  an 
unrelated,  inexplicable  phenomenon. 


CHAPTER  n 

THE   MEDIEVAL   TRADITION 

In  history  the  Battle  of  Bosworth  Field  marks  an  epoch.  It  is 
the  turning  of  the  tide  that  comes  to  the  full  a  century  later.  The 
disastrous  French  wars  of  Henry  VI,  followed  by  the  still  more 
disastrous  civil  strife  between  York  and  Lancaster,  had  almost 
removed  England  as  a  factor  from  European  politics.  After  the 
accession  of  Henry  VII,  however,  civil  strife  dwindled  into  a  few 
insignificant  insurrections,  and  foreign  warfare  was  negligible.  In 
literature  for  the  same  reason  the  Battle  of  Bosworth  Field  marks 
an  epoch.  The  presence  of  literature  implies  not  only  leisure  for 
the  writer,  but  also  leisure  for  the  reader,  and  England  had  been  at 
war  spasmodically  for  half  a  century.  Consequently  after  Lyd- 
gate  there  is  no  uniform  literary  development,  each  poem  is  casual, 
and  the  appearance  of  poetry  seems  sporadic.  During  this  time 
there  was  no  English  writer  who  survived  as  a  personality  and  no 
book  of  general  interest  with  the  exception  of  the  prose  Morte 
Darthur.  When  once  again  the  country  had  returned  to  a  state 
of  equiUbrium  and  again  there  was  a  demand  for  literary  pro- 
duction, writers  found  themselves  without  definite  literary  models. 
Their  effort  to  adapt  medieval  or  foreign  models,  or  to  originate 
their  own,  is  the  subject  of  this  book;  their  modification  of  the 
traditionary  English  treatment  is  the  subject  of  this  chapter. 

Before  proceeding  further,  it  may  be  well  to  lodge  a  caveat. 
There  has  been  a  tendency  in  recent  writers  to  assume  that  the 
Renaissance  in  England  was  completely  severed  from  the  past. 
Actually  this  is  not  so.  In  spite  of  the  irregularity  and  vagueness 
of  the  English  tradition  it  is  astonishingly  strong,  due  to  the  ven- 
detta-like nature  of  the  conflict.  Battles,  on  which  the  possession 
of  the  kingdom  depended,  were  fought  with  comparatively  small 
armies,  and  small  sections  of  the  country  only  were  involved.  Else- 
where men  went  about  their  business  as  usual.  Naturally,  as  is 
shown  by  the  Paston  Letters,  to  each  man  his  own  affairs  bulked 
large,  and  the  chief  interest  in  the  bewildering  political  changes 

48 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  49 

was  how  they  would  aflEect  him  personally.  The  life  of  the  nation 
went  on  fairly  normally.  As  Gairdner  says :  ^  "  Education,  never- 
theless, was  making  undoubted  progress,  both  among  high  and 
low.  Eton  College  and  King's  College,  Cambridge,  had  been 
founded  by  Henry  VI.  .  .  (in  1479)  he  (William  Paston)  sends  him 
(his  brother  John)  also  a  specimen  of  his  performances  in  Latin 
versification.  It  is  not  a  very  brilliant  production,  certainly,  but 
the  fact  of  his  sending  it  to  his  elder  brother  shows  that  John  Paston 
too  had  gone  through  a  regular  classical  training  on  the  system 
which  has  prevailed  in  all  public  schools  down  to  the  present  day." 
And  again:  ^  "But  these  letters  show  that  during  the  century 
before  the  Reformation  the  state  of  education  was  by  no  means  so 
low,  and  its  advantages  by  no  means  so  exceptionally  distributed, 
as  we  might  otherwise  imagine.  .  .  No  person  of  any  rank  or  sta- 
tion in  society  above  mere  labouring  men  seems  to  have  been 
wholly  iUiterate.  All  could  write  letters ;  most  persons  could  express 
themselves  in  writing  with  ease  and  fluency.  Not  perhaps  that 
the  accomplishment  was  one  in  which  it  was  considered  an  honour 
to  excel.  Hands  that  had  been  accustomed  to  grasp  the  sword 
were  doubtless  easily  fatigued  with  the  pen.  .  .  Men  of  high  rank 
generally  sign  their  letters,  but  scarcely  ever  write  them  with 
their  own  hands.  And  well  was  it,  in  many  cases,  for  their  cor- 
respondents that  they  did  not  do  it  oftener.  Whether,  like  Ham- 
let, they  thought  it  a  baseness  to  write  fair,  and  left  such  'yeoman's 
service'  to  those  who  had  specially  qualified  themselves  for  it;  or 
whether,  absorbed  by  other  pursuits,  they  neglected  an  art  which 
they  got  others  to  practice  for  them,  the  nobility  were  generally 
the  worst  writers  of  the  day."  But  a  catalogue,  unfortunately 
much  injured,  of  probably  John  Paston  the  younger  gives  a  list 
of  representative  books.'  "His  library,  or  that  of  his  brother 
John,  contained  'the  death  of  Arthur,'  the  story  of  Guy  of  War- 
wick, chronicles  of  the  English  kings  from  Cocur  de  Lion  to  Ed- 
ward III.,  the  legend  of  Guy  and  Colbrand,  and  various  other 
chronicles  and  fictions  suited  to  knightly  culture;  besides  moral 
treatises,  Uke  Bishop  Alcock's  Abbey  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  poeti- 
cal and  imaginative  books,  such  as  the  poems  of  Chaucer — at  least 

*  Paston  Lettera,  Gairdner,  Introduction,  ccclxiv. 

*  Ibid.,  ccclxiii. 

'  Ibid.,  ccclzviii.    The  original  inventory,  869,  is  given  Vol.  iii,  800. 


50  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

his  Troilus  and  Cressida,  his  Legend  of  Ladies  (commonly  called 
the  Legend  of  Good  Women),  his  Parliament  of  Birds,  the  Belle 
Dame  sauns  Mercie,  and  Lydgate's  Temple  of  Glass."  Although 
it  is  an  inventory  endorsed  "off  Englysshe  Boks  off  John.  .  ."  there 
are  four  books  in  Latin,  principally  Cicero.  Exactly  what  the 
endorsement  means,  therefore,  is  doubtful.  If  this  be  a  complete 
catalogue  of  all  his  books,  the  striking  feature  is  the  great  pre- 
dominance of  English.  La  Belle  Dame  in  all  probability  is  Ros' 
EngUsh  version  because  in  the  two  cases  where  it  appears  on  the 
list  it  is  bound  with  works  of  Chaucer.  The  unavoidable  infer- 
ence is  that  even  but  a  few  years  before  the  accession  of  Henry  VII, 
English  was  scarcely  influenced  by  either  humanistic  or  foreign 
literatures. 

Naturally  then,  after  the  political  condition  had  become  settled, 
one  would  expect  an  increase  in  the  number  of  poems  following 
Chaucerian  precedent.  But  there  are  two  reasons  why  Chaucer 
was  not  a  good  literary  model  for  the  sixteenth  century  writer; 
first,  because  his  medieval  content  was  not  adapted  to  the  renais- 
sance reader,  and  secondly,  because  during  the  fifteenth  century 
the  verv'^  language  had  undergone  a  striking  change.  The  great 
peculiarity  in  Chaucerian  versification  noticed  by  the  modern 
reader,  is  the  pronunciation  of  the  final  e.  In  the  following  passage, 
the  opening  lines  of  the  Prologue  of  the  Canterbury  Tales,  this 
e  is  italicized. 

Whan  that  Aprillc  with  his  shourcs  soote 
The  droghte  of  Marche  hath  perced  to  the  rot«. 
And  bathed  every  veyne  in  swich  licour. 
Of  which  vertu  engendred  is  the  flour; 
5  Whan  5^phirus  eek  with  his  swete  breeth 
Inspired  hath  in  every  holt  and  heeth 
'"  The  tendre  croppes,  and  the  yonge  sonne 

Hath  in  the  Ram  his  halfe  cours  y-ronne. 
And  smale  fowles  maken  melodye, 
10  That  slepen  al  the  night  with  open  ye. 
So  priketh  hem  nature  in  hir  coragcs : — 
Than  longen  folk  to  goon  on  pilgrimages  .  .  . 

Read  in  a  modem  text,  with  the  final  e  pronounced,  as  decasyllabic 
pentameter  couplets,  the  passage  is  beautifully  fluid.  But  the 
modem  text  represents  years  of  scholarship.  The  text  of  the 
sixteenth  century  reader  was  in  chaotic  condition.    And  read  with- 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  51 

out  pronouncing  the  final  e,  the  effect  is  justly  described  by  Dryden, 
"There  is  the  rude  sweetness  of  a  Scotch  tune  in  it,  which  is  nat- 
ural and  pleasing,  though  not  perfect."  *  For  example,  the  second 
couplet,  with  the  ed  sounded,  is  perfectly  regular,  but  the  first 
line  of  the  passage  must  be  given  up  as  hopelessly  impossible, 
whereas  the  seventh  and  the  ninth  are  halting  octosyllabics.  A 
fervent  imitator  of  Chaucer,  under  the  impression  that  such  rough- 
ness was  intentional,  would  conscientiously  write  bad  verse!  This, 
according  to  Professor  Pollard,  has  been  done  by  the  author  of 
the  Castell  of  Labour, — a  poem  which  he  attributes,  mistakenly 
I  think,  to  Barclay.^ 

Through  the  disuse  of  the  pronunciation  of  e-final,  and  the  general  clipping  of 
inflexions,  the  secret  of  Chaucer's  verse  within  two  generations  of  his  death  was 
entirely  lost.  If  any  one  will  turn  to  either  of  Caxton's  editions  of  the  Canterbury 
Tales  he  will  find  that  many  lines,  as  they  are  there  printed,  have  entirely  ceased  to 
be  decasyllabics;  they  can  be  read  in  no  other  way  than  as  trotting  verses  of  four 
accents  apiece.  Other  lines,  however,  in  which  there  were  no  inflexions  to  lose,  or 
small  words  to  drop  out,  remain  distinctly  decasyllabic,  and  cannot  be  compressed 
into  verses  of  four  accents  except  by  a  reader  with  an  enormous  power  of  swallow. 
It  was  a  text  like  this  which  drew  down  on  Chaucer  the  condescending  allowance  for 
his  "  rudeness"  of  a  succession  of  critics,  few  of  whom  possessed  a  tithe  of  his  music. 
It  was  also,  I  think,  the  existence  of  such  a  text  of  Chaucer  that  accounts  for  the 
metrical  peculiarities  which  we  find  in  the  Castell  of  Labour.  The  modern  reader 
who  expects  to  find  all  the  lines  of  a  stanza  of  equal  metrical  length,  or  of  different 
lengths  arranged  in  a  fixed  order,  may  look  askance  at  the  suggestion  that  Barclay 
normally  uses  lines  of  four  accents,  but  mixes  with  them  (especially  towards  the 
beginning  of  his  poem)  others  of  a  slower  movement  with  five.  Yet  this  is  what 
Barclay  found  when  he  read  Chaucer,  as  he  must  have  done,  in  the  editions  of 
Caxton,  Pynson,  or  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  and  I  believe  that  he  accepted  these  al- 
ternations as  a  beauty,  and  one  which  should  be  imitated. 

It  must  not  be  assumed,  however,  that  this  change  was  abrupt. 
It  was  a  gradual  transformation  varying  with  the  individual  and 
the  dialect,  beginning  not  long  after  Chaucer's  death.  It  is  some- 
what apparent  in  Lydgate,  and  is  normal  in  Sir  Richard  Ros 
(circ.  1460).  Hawes,  (1506)  rimes  was-passe,'  Jupiter-farre,^ 
good-mode,^  etc;  Barclay  (1508),  chylde-defyled,  made-decayed, 

»  Preface  to  the  Fakles. 

*  Ccutell  of  Labour,  for  the  Roxburgh  Club,  xl-xli. 

*  P<utime  of  Pleasure,  Percy  Society,  p.  5,  stanza  S. 

*  Ibid.,  p.  8,  stanza  S. 

*  Ibid.,  p.  48,  stanza  2. 


52  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

etc. ;  *  and  by  1547  William  Salesbury  tells  his  Welsh  compatriots,^ 
"  Similarly  E  final  in  English  words  is  melted  away,  for  the  most 
part,  from  the  end  of  every  word  in  pronunciation.  .  .  "  During 
the  first  half  of  the  century,  however,  there  seems  to  have  been 
room  for  individual  preference;  certainly  so,  before  the  opening 
of  the  century.  This  is  illustrated  by  the  following  couplet  from 
Caxton's  Book  of  Curtesye  (1477-8) ; 

Your  hondes  wesshe  /  it  is  an  holsum  thinge 
Your  naylis  loke  /  they  be  not  gety  blacke. 

Here  the  e  in  hondes  must  be  pronounced  to  scan  the  line,  whereas 
the  e  in  loke,  coming  before  the  caesura,  probably  was  not.  Words, 
with  closed  penultimate  syllables,  such  as  thinge^  tended  to  re- 
tain the  sound,  but  there  seems  no  general  rule. 

With  the  language  thus  steadily  changing,  the  difference  be- 
tween the  speech  of  1500  and  that  of  1400  was  strongly  marked. 
Not  only  had  the  e-final  been  lost,  but  inflexions  had  disappeared 
and  new  words  had  been  introduced.  The  resulting  diflBculty  is 
best  stated  in  the  words  of  Caxton  '  (1490). 

.  .  .  And  whan  I  had  aduysed  me  in  this  sayd  boke,  I  delybered  and  concluded 
to  translate  it  in-to  englysshe.  And  forthwyth  toke  a  penne  &  ynke,  and  wrote  a 
leef  or  tweyne  /  whyche  I  ouersawe  agayn  to  corecte  it  /  And  whan  I  sawe  the  fayr 
&  straunge  termes  therin  /  I  doubted  that  it  sholde  not  please  some  gentylmen 
whiche  late  blamed  me,  sayeng  that  in  my  translacyons  I  had  ouer  ciuyous  termes 
whiche  coude  not  be  imderstande  of  comyn  people  /  and  desired  me  to  vs  olde  and 
homely  termes  in  my  translacyons.  and  fayn  wolde  I  satysfye  euery  man  /  and  so 
to  doo,  toke  an  olde  boke  and  redde  therein  /  and  certaynly  the  englysshe  was  so 
rude  and  brood  that  I  coude  not  wele  vnderstande  it.  And  also  my  lorde  abbot  of 
westmynster  ded  do  shew  to  me  late,  certayn  euydences  wryton  in  olde  englysshe, 
for  to  reduce  it  in-to  our  englysshe  now  vsid  /  And  certaynly  it  was  wreton  in  suche 
wyse  that  it  was  more  lyke  to  dutche  than  englysshe;  I  coude  not  reduce  me  brynge 
it  to  be  vnderstonden  /  And  certaynly  our  langage  now  vsed  varyeth  ferre  from  that 
wiche  was  vsed  and  spoken  whan  I  was  borne  /  For  we  englysshe  men  /  ben  borne 
vnder  the  domynacyon  of  the  mone,  whiche  is  neuer  stedf  aste  /  but  euer  wauerynge  / 
wexynge  one  season  /  and  waneth  &  dyscreaseth  another  season  /  And  that  comyn 
englysshe  that  is  spoken  in  one  shyre  varyeth  from  a  nother.  In  so  moche  that 
in  my  dayes  happened  that  certayn  marchauntes  were  in  a  shippe  in  tamyse,  for  to 
baue  sayled  ouer  the  see  into  zelande  /  and  for  lacke  of  wynde,  thei  taryed  atte 

^  Ship  of  Fools,  Jamieson,  Vol.  1,  p.  37,  stanza  3;  p.  38,  stanza  4. 
» WUliam  Salesbury,  EUis,  part  III,  Chapter  VIII,  777. 
•  Caxton's  Eneydos,  Early  English  Text  Society,  p.  1. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  53 

forlond,  and  wente  to  lande  for  to  refreshe  them;  And  one  of  theym  named  shef- 
felde,  a  mercer,  cam  in-to  an  hows  and  axed  for  mete;  and  specyally  he  axed  after 
eggys;  and  the  goode  wyf  answerde,  that  she  coude  speke  no  frenshe.  And  the 
marchaunt  was  angry,  for  he  also  coude  speke  no  frenshe,  but  wolde  haue  hadde 
^ges  /  and  she  vnderstode  hym  not  /  And  thenne  at  laste  a  nother  sayd  that  he 
wolde  haue  eyren  /  then  the  good  wyf  sayd  that  she  vnderstod  hym  wel  /  Loo,  what 
sholde  a  man  in  thyse  dayes  now  wryte,  egges  or  eyren  /  certaynly  it  is  harde  to 
playse  euery  man  /  by  cause  of  dyuersite  &  chaimge  of  langage.  For  in  these  dayes 
euery  man  that  is  in  ony  reputacyon  in  his  countre,  wyll  vtter  his  commynycacyon 
and  maters  in  suche  maners  &  termes  /  that  fewe  men  shall  vnderstonde  theym  / 
And  som  honest  and  grete  clerkes  haue  ben  wyth  me,  and  desired  me  to  wiyte  the 
moste  curyous  termes  that  I  coude  fynde  /  And  thus  bytwene  playn  rude  /  &  curyous, 
I  stande  abasshed,  but  in  my  ludgemente  /  the  comyn  termes  that  be  dayli  vsed,  ben 
lyghter  to  be  vnderstonde  than  the  olde  and  auncyent  englysshe  /  And  for  as  moche 
as  this  present  booke  is  not  for  a  rude  vplondyssh  man  to  laboure  therein  /  ne  rede 
it  /  but  onely  for  a  clerke  &  a  noble  gentylman  that  feleth  and  vnderstondeth  in 
faytes  of  armes,  in  loue,  &  in  noble  chyualrye  /  Therfor  in  a  meane  bytwene  bothe,  I 
haue  reduced  &  translated  this  sayd  booke  in  to  our  englysshe,  not  ouer  rude  ne 
curyous,  but  in  suche  termes  as  shall  be  vnderstanden,  by  goddys  grace,  accordynge 
to  my  copye. 

But  the  same  difficulty  confronted  every  writer,  as  Skelton  com- 
plains.^ 

I  am  but  a  yong  mayd. 
And  cannot  in  effect 
My  style  as  yet  direct 
With  Englysh  wordes  elect; 
Our  naturall  tong  is  rude. 
And  hard  to  be  enneude 
With  pullysshed  termes  lusty; 
Our  language  is  so  rusty. 
So  cankered,  and  so  full 
Of  frowardes,  and  so  dull. 
That  if  I  wolde  apply 
To  wryte  omatly, 
I  wot  not  where  to  fynd 
Termes  to  seme  my  mynde. 

Gowers  Englysh  is  olde. 
And  of  no  value  told; 
His  mater  is  worth  gold. 
And  worthy  to  be  enrold. 

In  Chauser  I  am  sped. 
His  tales  I  haue  red: 
His  mater  is  delectable, 
Solacious,  and  commendable; 

*  The  Poetical  Works  of  John  Skdion.  Dyce,  1843,  i,  74. 


54  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

His  Englysh  well  alowed. 
So  as  it  is  emprowed. 
For  as  it  is  enployed. 
There  is  no  English  voyd. 
At  those  dayes  moch  commended. 
And  now  men  wold  haue  amended 
His  Englysh,  whereat  they  barke; 
And  mar  all  they  warke: 
Chaucer,  that  famus  clerke. 
His  termes  were  not  darke, 
But  pleasunt,  easy,  and  playne; 
No  worde  he  wrote  in  vayne. 
Also  Johnn  Lydgate 
Wryteth  after  an  hyer  rate; 
It  is  dyffuse  to  fynde 
The  sentence  of  his  mynde. 
Yet  wryteth  he  in  his  kynd. 
No  man  that  can  amend 
Those  maters  that  he  hath  pende; 
Yet  some  men  fjoide  a  faute. 
And  say  he  wryteth  to  haute. 

There  seems  even  then  to  have  been  a  desire  to  modernize  the 
older  writers, — a  tendency  that  has  persisted  even  to  this  day, — 
if  we  may  make,  with  Warton,^  the  not  improbable  assumption 
that  in  the  following  passage  from  Barclay  the  allusion  is  to 
Gower's  Confessio  Amantis. 

Right  honorable  Master  ye  me  required  late 

A  Lovers  confession  abridging  to  amende. 

And  from  corrupte  Englishe  in  better  to  translate  ... 

The  conclusion  is  that  during  the  storm  and  stress  of  the  fifteenth 
century  not  only  had  the  language  changed,  but  the  secret  of  the 
old  versification  had  been  lost.  Therefore  Middle  English  writers, 
of  whom  Chaucer  is  the  great  exemplar,  are  more  intelligible  to 
us  with  our  variorum  texts,  annotated  editions,  and  elaborate 
glossaries  than  they  were  to  the  subjects  of  Henry  VIII.  Through 
the  imperfections  of  his  texts  and  the  change  in  the  language  even 
Chaucer  was  no  longer  available  as  a  literary  model. 

It  must  not  be  understood,  however,  that  Chaucer  was  no 
longer  read.    The  vitality  of  his  reputation  under  such  adverse 

^  History  of  English  Poetry,  Thomas  Warton,  section  xxix. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  55 

circumstances  is  surprising.  The  precedent  of  eulogizing  him,  set 
by  Occleve  and  confirmed  by  Lydgate,  is  followed  by  the  Tudor 
authors.  Caxton's  fine  apostrophe  to  him  sounds  the  note  of 
sixteenth  century  criticism.^ 

O  Fader  and  Founder  of  etemate  eloquence. 

That  eluminede  all  this  oure  britaigne; 
To  sone  we  lost  his  lauriate  presence, 

O  lusty  licoure  of  that  fulsome  fountaigne; 
Cursed  deth,  why  hast  thou  this  poete  slayne, 
I  mene  Fadir  chancers,  mastir  Galfride? 
Alias !  the  while,  that  euer  he  from  vs  diede. 

Redith  his  bokys  f  ulle  of  all  plesaimce, 

Clere  in  sentence,  in  longage  excellent, 

Brefly  to  wryte  suche  was  his  sufifesaunce, 

What-euer  to  sey  he  toke  in  his  entent. 

His  longage  was  so  feyre  and  pertinent. 

That  seemed  vnto  mennys  heryng. 

Not  only  the  worde,  but  verrely  the  thing. 

Redith,  my  child,  redith  his  warkys  all, 

Refuseth  non,  they  ben  expedient; 
Sentence  or  langage,  or  both,  fynde  ye  shall 
Full  delectable,  for  that  fader  ment 
Of  all  his  purpos  and  his  hole  intent 
Howe  to  plese  in  euery  audience 
And  in  oure  toung  was  well  of  eloquence. 

Hawes,  on  the  other  hand,  feels  it  necessary  to  give  a  list  of  the 
works, — ^perhaps  as  a  proof  that  he  has  read  them.^ 

The  boke  of  fame,  which  is  sentencyous. 

He  drewe  hym  selfe  on  hys  own  invencyon; 

And  than  the  tragidyes  so  pytous 

Of  the  xix.  ladyes,  was  his  translacyon; 

And  upon  hys  ymaginacyon 

He  made  also  the  tales  of  Caunterbury; 

Some  vertuous,  and  some  glad  and  mery. 

And  of  Troylus  the  pytous  dolour 
For  his  lady  Cresyde,  full  of  doublenes. 
He  did  bewayle  ful  well  the  langoure. 
Of  all  hys  love  and  grete  unhappines. 

'  Caxton's  Book  of  Curtetye.    Elariy  English  Text  Society.     Extra  Series,  Na 
m,  p.  34. 

*  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  Cap.  xiv. 


56  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

And  many  other  bokes  doubtles 
He  dyd  compyle,  whose  godly  name 
In  printed  bokes  doth  remayne  in  fame. 

Eulogy  of  these  two  types  continues  through  the  sixteenth 
century,  until  it  culminates  in  Spenser,  with  his  famous  phrase, 
reminiscent  of  Caxton's  a  century  earlier,  "well  of  English  un- 
defyled. "  But  as  Chaucer  is  a  master  of  verse  technique,  natural- 
ly more  than  others  he  suffered  by  the  change  in  the  language. 
When  the  music  of  his  verse  had  gone,  his  works  were  read  prin- 
cipally for  their  matter.  Thus,  as  in  the  passage  of  Hawes  just 
quoted,  the  important  works  were  apparently  the  House  of  Fame 
and  the  Legend  of  Good  Women.  The  Canterbury  Tales j  although 
glad  and  merry,  were  not  profitable  to  the  same  degree  as  moral 
allegory.  Consequently  there  was  a  complete  failure  to  distinguish 
the  literary  superiority  of  Chaucer  over  authors  like  Gower  and 
Lydgate.  And,  literature  aside,  judged  purely  from  a  question 
of  moraUty,  his  work  cannot  bear  comparison  with  the  unending 
tedious  commonplace  of  Lydgate.  He  it  is  that  furnishes  the  real 
inspiration  and  evokes  the  genuine  enthusiasm  of  the  early  writers. 
Compare  the  vagueness  of  Caxton's  tribute  to  Chaucer,  just 
quoted,  with  the  fervor  of  his  devotion  to  Lydgate:  ^ 

Loketh  Also  vppon  dan  lohn  lidgate. 

My  mastire,  whilome  clepid  monke  of  bury. 
Worthy  to  be  renownede  laureate, 

I  pray  to  gode,  in  blis  his  soule  be  mery, 
Synging  "Rex  Splendens,"  the  heuenly  "kery," 
Among  the  muses  ix  celestiall. 
Afore  the  hieghest  lubiter  of  all. 

I  not  why  deth  my  mastire  dide  envie. 
But  for  he  shulde  chaunge  his  habite; 
Pety  hit  is  that  suche  a  man  shulde  die! 
But  nowe  I  trist  he  be  a  carmylite; 
His  amyse  blacke  is  chaunged  into  white. 
Among  the  muses  ix  celestiall. 
Afore  the  hieghest  lubiter  of  all; " 

Passing  the  muses  all  of  elicone,  , 

Where  is  ynympariable  of  Armonye, 
Thedir  I  trist  my  mastir-is  soule  is  gone, 

'  Caxton's  Book  qf  CurUsye.     Op.  cU.,  pp.  36-40. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  57 

The  sterrede  palays  aboue  dapplede  akye, 
Ther  to  syng  "sanctus"  incessantly 

Among  the  muses  ix  celestiall, 

Affore  the  highest  lubiter  of  all. 

Redith  is  volumes  that  ben  so  large  and  wyde, 

Souereynly  sitte  in  sadnesse  of  sentence, 
ESumynede  wyth  colouris  fresshe  on  euery  syde. 
Hit  passith  my  wytte,  I  haue  no  eloquence 
To  yeue  hym  lawde  aftir  his  excellence. 
For  I  dare  say  he  lefte  hym  not  on  lyue. 
That  coude  his  cunnying  suffisantly  discreue. 

But  his  werkes  his  laude  moste  nede  conquere. 

He  may  neuer  oute  of  remembrance  die. 
His  werkys  shall  his  name  conuey  and  here 
Aboute  the  world  all-most  etemallie; 
Lette  his  owne  werkys  prayse  hym  and  magnifie; 
I  dare  not  preyse,  for  fere  that  I  oflFende, 
My  lewde  langage  shuld  rather  appeyre  than  amende. 

Hawes  also,  after  showing  that  he  knows  Chaucer,  is  emphatic 
in  stating  his  preference.^ 

And,  after  him,  my  mayster  Lydgate, 
The  monke  of  Bury,  dyd  hym  wel  apply 
Both  to  contryve  and  eke  to  translate; 
And  of  vertue  ever  in  especyally 
For  he  dyd  compyle  than  full  nyally 
Of  our  blessed  lady  the  conversacion. 
Saint  Edmunde's  life  martred  with  treson. 

Of  the  fall  of  prynces,  ryght  wofuUy 

He  did  endyte  in  all  piteous  wyse, 

Folowynge  his  auctoure  Bocas  rufully; 

A  ryght  greate  boke  he  did  truly  compryse, 

A  good  ensample  for  us  to  dispyse 

This  worlde,  so  ful  of  mutabilyte. 

In  whiche  no  man  can  have  a  certente. 

And  thre  reasons  ryght  greatly  profytable 
Under  coloure  he  cloked  craftely; 
And  of  the  chorle  he  made  the  fable 
That  shutte  the  byrde  in  a  cage  so  closely. 
The  pamflete  sheweth  it  expressely; 
He  fayned  also  the  courte  of  Sapyence, 
And  translated  wyth  al  his  dylygence. 

>  Pattime  of  Pleasure,  Cap.  XIV. 


58  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

The  grete  boke  of  the  last  destruccyon 

Of  the  cyte  of  Troye,  whylome  so  famous. 

How  for  woman  was  the  confusion; 

And  betwene  vertue  and  the  lyfe  vycyous 

Of  goddes  and  goddes,  a  boke  solacyous 

He  did  compyle,  and  the  tyme  to  passe. 

Of  love  he  made  the  bryght  temple  of  glasse. 

Were  not  these  thre  gretly  to  commende, 
Whyche  them  applyed  such  bokes  to  contryve. 
Whose  famous  draughtes  no  man  can  amende? 
The  synne  of  slouth  they  dyd  from  them  dryve^ 
After  theyr  death  for  to  abyde  on  ly ve 
In  worthy  fame  by  many  a  nacyon. 
Their  bokes  theyr  actes  do  make  relacyon. 

0  mayster  Lydgate,  the  most  dulcet  sprynge 
Of  famous  rethoryke,  wyth  balade  ryall. 
The  chefe  orygynal  of  my  lemyng. 

What  vayleth  it  on  you  for  to  call 
Me  for  to  ayde,  now  in  especiall; 
Sythen  your  body  is  now  wrapte  in  chest, 

1  pray  God  to  gyve  your  soule  good  rest. 

O  what  losse  is  it  of  suche  a  one! 

It  is  to  grete  truely  me  for  to  tell; 

Sythen  the  tyme  that  his  lyfe  was  gone. 

In  al  this  realme  his  pere  did  not  dwell; 

Above  al  other  he  did  so  excell. 

None  sith  his  time  in  arte  wolde  succede. 

After  their  death  to  have  fame  for  their  mede. 

But  many  a  one  is  ryght  well  experte 
In  this  connyng,  but  upon  auctoryte. 
They  fayne  no  fables  pleasaunt  and  covert. 
But  spende  theyr  time  in  vaynful  vanyte, 
Makynge  balades  of  fervent  amyte. 
As  gestes  and  tryfles  wythout  frutefulnes; 
Thus  al  in  vayne  they  spende  their  besynes. 

I,  lytell  or  nought  expert  in  poetry, 
Of  my  mayster  Lydgate  wyll  folowe  the  trace. 
As  evermore  so  his  name  to  magnyfy 
Wyth  suche  lytle  bokes,  by  Goddes  grace. 
If  in  this  worlde  I  may  have  the  space; 
The  lytell  connyng  that  his  grace  me  sente 
In  tyme  amonge  in  suche  wyse  shall  be  spente. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  69 

And  yet  nothinge  upon  presumpcyon 

My  mayster  Lydgate  I  wyll  not  envy. 

But  onely  is  mine  entencyon 

With  suche  labour  my  selfe  to  occupy; 

As  whyte  by  blacke  doth  shyne  more  clerely. 

So  shal  theyr  matters  appeare  more  pleasaunt 

Besyde  my  draughtes  rude  and  ignoraunt. 

The  first  comment  to  be  made  upon  this  passage  is  that  at  least 
we  know  its  exact  date.  The  inscription  in  the  first  edition,  "This 
boke,  called  the  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  was  made  and  compyled  by 
Stephen  Hawes,  one  of  the  gromes  of  the  most  honorable  chambre 
of  our  soverayne  lorde  Kynge  Henry  the  Seventh,  the  xxi.  yere  of 
his  most  noble  reyne.  .  .,"  shows  it  to  have  been  written  by  1506. 
Here  then  is  a  statement  of  the  condition  of  the  hterature  at  the 
opening  of  the  century  by  one  of  those  surrounding  the  King,  and 
even  more  reliable  than  Skelton's  indications  because  the  personal 
equation  is  not  so  great.  There  were  two  distinct  literary  ten- 
dencies: first,  the  desire  to  continue  the  long  allegorical  type  of 
Lydgate,  the  form  stamped  with  critical  approval  and  confirmed 
by  literary  precedent;  and  second,  a  reaction  against  this,  "balades 
of  fervent  amyte,"  short  occasional  poems.  This  distinction  is 
of  primary  importance  as  a  guide  through  the  confusion  of  the 
work  of  the  Renaissance.  The  second,  obviously  an  omnibus 
class,  will  develop  in  many  directions,  into  the  court  poetry  of 
Surrey  for  example  and  into  the  very  different,  almost  doggerel 
poetry  of  Skelton;  the  first  persists  as  formal  literature,  producing 
what  Lowell  ^  wittily  calls  "the  saurians  in  English  poetry, 
interminable  poems,  book  after  book  and  canto  after  canto,  like 
far-stretching  vertebrae,  that  at  first  sight  would  seem  to  have 
rendered  earth  unfit  for  the  habitation  of  man. " 

Both  of  these  classes  are  easily  accessible  in  the  Chaucerian 
apocrypha, — a  mass  of  literature  collected  through  the  desire  of 
each  succeeding  editor  of  Chaucer  to  present  not  only  all  his  works, 
but  also,  more  or  less  consciously,  to  include  analogous  poetry. 
In  this  way  was  preserved  a  body  of  fifteenth  and  even  sixteenth 
century  literature.  Consequently  in  the  eight  editions  of  Chaucer 
from  1532  to  1721  there  is  an  anthology  of  early  verse  to  which 
some  twenty  authors  involuntarily  contributed, — in  all  amounting 

^  J.  R.  Lowell,  Speruer. 


60  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

to  about  17,000  lines.  Naturally  the  greater  proportion  of  this 
material  is  nearer  the  time  of  Chaucer,  approximately  before  1450. 
This  is  not  true,  however,  of  some  of  the  pieces.  They  are  not  by 
Chaucer,  in  Chaucer's  time,  nor  imitations  of  Chaucer.  Thus 
these  editions  form  a  veritable  "ingathering"  of  pre-Renaissance 
literature. 

The  difficulty  in  discussing  this  literature  is  that,  since  originally 
the  poems  appeared  under  Chaucer's  name,  the  personaUty  of 
Chaucer  is  apt  to  obscure  the  main  issue,  so  that  the  discussion 
tends  to  show,  not  what  they  are,  but  what  they  are  not.  And,  as 
the  date  of  publication  is  naturally  no  clue  to  the  date  of  com- 
position, criticism  of  the  poems  is  apt  to  be  involved  in  linguistic 
dissertations.  Nor  is  it  correct  to  label  them  all  'imitations  of 
Chaucer'  merely  because  a  later  editor  added  them  to  his  genuine 
works.  Of  many  of  them  the  chief  connection  with  Chaucer  is 
the  accident  of  publication  and  the  fact  that  they  allude  to  him 
in  company  with  Gower  and  Lydgate.  It  seems  more  logical, 
therefore,  in  this  work,  to  separate  them,  and  to  discuss  them, 
together  with  other  contemporaneous  work,  in  connection  with 
the  various  tendencies  of  the  coming  literature. 

The  first  group  of  poems  to  be  discussed,  then,  belongs  to  the 
formal  literary  tradition.  The  form  used  is  the  rime-royal  stanza 
consisting  of  seven  pentameter  hues  in  the  order  ababbcc.  It  was 
introduced  into  EngUsh  by  Chaucer  and  used  by  him  in  two  of 
his  important  single  works,  The  Parlement  of  Foules,  and  the 
Troilus.  Later,  the  Kingis  Quair  is  written  in  this  stanza  form. 
Then  Lydgate  gives  it  his  critical  sanction  by  using  it  in  his 
Secrees  and  the  Temple  of  Glas.  During  the  second  half  of  the 
fifteenth  century  it  became  curiously  popular, — even  appearing  in 
verse  letters.^  It  seems  to  have  supplanted  the  heroic  couplet  as  a 
narrative  medium  for  serious  poetic  effort.  There  are  three  other 
characteristics  common  to  the  type;  the  use  of  the  dream  structure, 
the  use  of  allegory,  and  the  use  of  personifications.  All  these  are 
due  to  the  French  poem,  Le  Roman  de  la  Rose  which  had  a  some- 
what inexplicable  fascination  for  the  whole  of  the  later  middle 
ages.  Inaugurated  by  Chaucer  in  his  translation  of  La  Roman  de 
la  Rose  and  confirmed  by  him  in  the  Parlement  of  Foules,  this  type 
of  poem  continues  through  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
*  Paston  Letters,  ed.  Gairdner,  Letter  No.  794. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  61 

Its  vitality  is  remarkable,  and  still  more  remarkable  is  the  same- 
ness of  the  literary  convention.  The  author  is  usually  reading 
when  he  anticipates  the  reader  by  falling  asleep,  the  ensuing  dream 
constituting  the  body  of  the  work.  In  a  dream,  he  passes  through 
a  series  of  adventures  that  have  an  allegorical  significance,  and 
he  meets  with  various  characters  that  are  personified  virtues  and 
vices.  The  conclusion  is  that  he  awakes  and  writes  down  his 
dream.  The  objection  to  this  scheme  is  the  fundamental  one  that 
led  Washington  to  lay  down  his  rule  that  he  would  never  tell 
dreams,  the  sequence  of  events  is  not  logical;  the  law  of  causation 
does  not  exist.  The  waking  mind,  therefore,  in  telling  the  dream, 
almost  invariably  injects  causation, — whereby  it  ceases  to  be  a 
dream,  without  attaining  the  conviction  of  reahty.  It  thus  falls 
between  two  stools.  When  the  case  is  complicated  by  the  intro- 
duction of  characters  that  are  not  characters  but  abstractions, 
interest  in  the  narrative  has  been  doubly  weakened.  There 
remains,  then,  only  the  sweetness  of  description  and  an  intellectual 
pleasure  in  identifying  the  allegory,  akin  to  that  in  guessing  a 
riddle.  There  is  also  an  annoying  mannerism  to  be  mentioned, 
the  affectation  of  self -depreciation.  This,  although  the  hteral 
interpretation  of  it  gives  the  modem  critic  the  pleasure  of  being 
witty,  is  only  a  convention,  comparable  to  that  of  Elizabethan 
poetry,  whereby  the  author  promises  immortality  to  the  subject 
of  his  verse.  All  these  characteristics,  however  they  may  have 
been  derived,  were  passed  on  to  the  younger  generation  by 
Lydgate.  This  seems  as  appropriate  a  place  as  any  to  introduce 
Ritson's  characterization  of  him,  "voluminous,  prosaic,  and 
drivelling  monk," — a  phrase  without  which  no  article  deaUng 
with  Lydgate  would  be  admitted  to  our  best  encyclopedias.  That 
the  first  adjective  in  the  indictment  be  true  no  one  can  question. 
MacCracken  has  ruthlessly  reduced  Ritson's  list  of  titles  from 
251  to  160,^- yet  even  this  is  a  far  from  contemptible  showing.  The 
other  two  adjectives,  however,  represent  a  purely  personal  opinion. 
The  point  to  emphasize  here  is  that  the  subjects  of  the  early 
Tudor  kings  found  him  the  reverse  of  either  prosaic  or  drivel- 
ling. And  whatever  may  be  the  present  critical  estimate  of  the 
aesthetic  value  of  his  poems,  the  fact  remains  that  he  is  a  force 
to  be  considered,  and  that  his  style  is  worth  comment. 

'  The  Minor  Poems  of  John  Lydgate,  H.  N.  MacCracken,  xi-xxxi. 


62  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Naturally,  as  one  would  expect  in  an  author  so  "voluminous,** 
his  style  is  both  prolix  and  careless.^  Written  currente  calamo, 
his  sentences  are  accretions  of  afterthoughts,  illustration  piled  on 
illustration  and  epithet  on  epithet  until  the  thought  is  exhausted. 
In  the  same  way  he  rtins  to  catalogue.  It  gives  the  effect  of  having 
been  composed  impromptu.  This  is  increased  by  the  manner  in 
which,  to  fill  up  his  verse,  he  interjects  stock  phrases,  and  un- 
necessary words.  In  like  manner,  his  scansion  is  entirely  by 
ear.  His  accent  shifts  without  much  regard  for  the  number  of 
syllables  in  the  line.  A  peculiar  trick  is  to  treat  the  caesural  pause 
as  equivalent  to  a  weak  syllable,  thus  bringing  two  accented 
syllables  together.  As  he  is  also  apt  to  omit  the  first  weak  syllable 
in  the  line,  the  effect  is  one  of  two  short  lines. 

"  Mirrour  of  wit,  ground  of  govemaunce."  ^ 

The  result  of  this  pecuUarity  of  scansion,  in  combination  with 
the  uncertainty  of  the  language,  caused  some  of  his  imitators  to 
write  little  more  than  rimed  prose. 

Following  the  example  of  Lydgate  writers  produced  numerous 
poems  with  the  characteristics  mentioned  above.  "  Courts  of.  .  . 
"Castles  of.  .  .  "Temples  of.  .  ."  Their  genealogy  is  given  by  the 
name.  Nor  do  they  deserve  individual  comment  in  a  work  such 
as  this.  It  is  sufficient  if  the  reader  recognizes  the  type  and  the 
convention.  This  is  not  true,  however,  of  several  of  these  poems 
that  are  more  widely  known  than  their  fellows.  Each  of  these 
presents  its  own  set  of  perplexing  problems.  As  they  are  anony- 
mous, the  question  of  authorship  is  open  to  debate;  as  they  are 
undated,  the  question  of  language  is  unsettled.  Consequently  in 
the  long  controversy  they  have  been  attributed  to  various  writers, 
beginning  with  Chaucer,  and  have  been  dated  at  any  part  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  occasionally  spilling  over  into  the  sixteenth. 
Since  to  me  they  all  show  Lydgate's  influence,  I  place  them  after 
1450  and  before  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

The  first  of  these.  The  Flower  and  the  Leaf,  has  the  enviable 
record  of  having  inspired  two  poets  of  dissimilar  tastes.    It  was 

*  The  best  analysis  of  Lydgate's  peculiarities  is  in  the  preface  of  The  Temple  of 
Gfa«,  by  J.  Schick.    E.  E.  T.  S. 

*  Temple  of  Glas,  ibid.,  line  754. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  63 

selected  by  Dryden  for  translation,  under  the  impression  that  it 
was  by  Chaucer,  and  Keats  has  left  the  following  well-known 
account  of  his  reading  it. 

This  pleasant  tale  is  like  a  little  copse: 

The  honied  lines  so  freshly  interlace 

To  keep  the  reader  in  so  sweet  a  place. 
So  that  he  here  and  there  full-hearted  stops; 
And  oftentimes  he  feels  the  dewy  drops 

Come  cool  and  suddenly  against  his  face. 

And,  by  the  wandering  melody,  may  trace 
Which  way  the  tender-legged  linnet  hops. 
Oh!  what  a  power  has  white  simplicity! 

What  mighty  power  has  this  gentle  story! 

I,  that  do  ever  feel  a  thirst  for  glory, 
Could  at  this  moment  be  content  to  lie 

Meekly  up>on  the  grass,  as  those  whose  sobbings 

Were  heard  of  none  beside  the  mournful  robins. 

The  story  of  the  poem  that  thus  affected  Keats  is  briefly  as  follows: 
the  author  being  unable  to  sleep,  arises  at  dawn  to  seek  rest  in  an 
arbour;  first  a  musical  duel  takes  place  there  between  a  nightingale 
and  a  goldfinch;  then  a  company  of  ladies,  clad  in  white,  appear, 
to  be  followed  shortly  by  a  company  of  white  knights;  after  a 
joust  by  the  latter,  the  entire  number  seek  refuge  under  a  tree 
which  they  first  greet;  their  place  upon  the  lawn,  however,  is  soon 
occupied  by  an  equal  number  of  knights  and  ladies  dressed  in 
green;  the  festivities  of  this  latter  group  are  interrupted  first  by 
the  heat,  then  a  wind  storm,  followed  by  hail;  in  piteous  plight, 
they  are  succoured  by  members  of  the  first  party  that  have  been 
sheltered  by  the  tree.  Whereupon  the  nightingale  joins  the  first 
party  and  the  goldfinch  the  second;  upon  inquiry  the  author  is 
told  that  the  party  of  the  Leaf  represents  those  that  shun  delights 
and  live  laborious  days,  while  that  of  the  fragile  Flower  enjoys 
the  moment.  The  allegory  is  delicate,  and  the  atmosphere  charm- 
ing. So  much  so  in  fact  that  after  being  added  to  Chaucer's  works 
by  Speght  in  1598,  it  was  generally  accej)ted.  Even  Tyrwhitt 
hesitated,  and  it  appears  in  all  the  early  nineteenth  century 
editions. 

Actually,  of  course,  the  language  ^  is  not  Chaucerian.    The  use 

*  This  has  been  elaborately  discussed  by  the  late  Professor  Skeat  in  the  seventh, 
the  supplementary,  volume  of  his  Chaxicer, 


64  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

of  the  final  e  is  erratic  and  grammatical  forms  have  been  lost. 
Still  more,  it  seems  a  palpable  imitation  of  Lydgate's  manner. 
The  stanzas  overflow  even  in  the  midst  of  a  subordinate  clause. 
The  last  line  of  the  twenty-third  stanza  reads, 

ChS.pSlet8  fresh;  but  there  were  many  tho, 

and  the  following  stanza  continues  the  sentence. 

That  daunced  and  eek  song  ful  soberly. 

You  find  examples  of  Lydgate's  line,  such  as. 

Causing  the  ground,  felS  tymes  and  oft  * 

And  Lydgate's  pecuUarity  of  closing  with  a  deprecatory  apos- 
trophe to  his  "Uttle"  book, — it  must  be  an  affectionate  diminutive 
since  the  number  of  lines  (and  the  Fall  qf  Princes  ^  has  over 
thirty-six  thousand  lines)  has  nothing  to  do  with  it, — is  faith- 
fully followed. 

O  litel  book,  thou  art  so  unconning. 
How  darst  thou  put  thy-self  in  prees  for  drede? 
It  is  wonder  that  thou  wexest  not  rede, 
Sith  that  thou  wost  ful  lyte  who  shal  behold 
Thy  rude  langage,  ful  boistously  imfold. 

While  none  of  these  characteristics,  nor  others  like  them,  is  con- 
vincing singly,  the  total  effect  seems  conclusive  that  the  poem  was 
written  after  1450. 

On  the  other  hand,  that  it  is  not  by  Lydgate  himself  is  taken  for 
granted,  because  it  is  assumed  that  the  author  is  a  woman.  That 
the  ego  is  a  woman  is  shown  in  the  line  in  which  she  is  addressed 
as  "My  doughter";  but  that  the  author  was  a  woman  does  not 
necessarily  follow,  since  there  are  any  number  of  possible  dramatic 
reasons  why  a  man  should  write  in  that  character.'  Not  much 
more  convincing  is  the  argument  of  Skeat  drawn  from  the  detailed 
description  of  the  dresses.  In  an  age  when  so  large  a  propor- 
tion of  the  individual's  property  was  invested  in  clothes  and 

*  Line  5. 

*  "Miscalled  by  him  and  others  Falls,"  MacCracken,  p.  xvi. 

*  Professor  Saintsbury,  Cambridge  History  of  Literature,  suggests  that  the  poem  is 
part  of  a  larger  whole.    It  does  not  give  me  that  impression. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  65 

distinction  in  rank  was  indicated  by  the  garments  worn,  detailed 
interest  in  dress  was  not  peculiar  to  women.  ^  Yet  there  is  a  charm 
and  softness  about  the  poem  that  suggests  feminine  authorship, 
and  likewise  explains  Keats'  enthusiasm.  That  he  thought  it 
simple,  merely  argues  that  he  was  unfamihar  with  the  type.  Ac- 
tually it  is  written  in  full  knowledge  of  the  literary  conventions  of 
the  day. 

Discussion  of  the  Flower  and  the  Leaf  is  inextricably  bound  up 
with  its  fellow  poem.  The  Assembly  of  Ladies,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  Skeat  hypothesizes  the  same  authorship.  This  was  added  to 
the  Chaucerian  canon  by  Thynne  in  1532,  but  was  decisively  re- 
jected by  Tyrwhitt, — with  the  result  that  it  has  not  figured  so 
largely  in  English  literature.  Nor  is  it  so  attractive,  largely  be- 
cause it  is  more  conventional.  It  is  the  story  of  a  dream  told  by 
a  lady  to  a  knight.  In  the  dream  she  goes  to  the  castle  of  Pleasant 
Regard  where  Loyalty  is  queen.  The  officers  of  the  court  are 
Perseverance,  Diligence,  Countenance,  Discretion,  Acquaintance, 
Largesse,  Belchere,  Remembrance,  Avysenesse,  and  Attemperance. 
Once  there,  various  women  present  bills  of  complaint;  whereupon 
Loyalty  promises  to  consider  them,  and  dismisses  the  audience. 
And  the  poem  ends,  as  it  began,  with  the  conversation  between 
the  lady  and  the  knight.  The  great  point  of  similarity  with  the 
Flower  and  the  Leaf  is  the  feminism  displayed.^  Not  only  is  the 
ego  a  woman,  but,  aside  from  the  first  knight,  all  the  characters 
are  women  and  all  the  incidents  concern  women.  Also  there  is 
the  same  detailed  description  of  dress.  In  both  poems  the  char- 
acters wear  garments  with  embroidered  French  mottoes, — a  type 
of  costume  also  to  be  found  in  Lydgate.^  And  still  more  there  are 
a  number  of  verbal  similarities.*  On  the  other  hand  the  language 
of  the  Assembly  of  Ladies  is  certainly  later  than  that  of  The  Flotoer 

^  There  is  nothing  in  the  poem  more  detailed  than  William  Makegyrr's  account  of 
the  costumes  worn  at  the  meeting  of  Henry  VII  and  Philip  of  Castile,  Paston 
LeUera,  No.  953. 

*  "  (with  the  sole  exception  of  the  Nutbrown  Maid)  no  English  poems  exist,  as 
lax  as  I  remember,  written  previously  to  1500,  and  purporting  to  be  written  by  a 
woman."  Skent,  Supplementary,  Vol.  LXIII.  But  verses,  endorsed  "  By  a  Lady," 
in  the  reign  of  Edward  IV  are  in  the  Paston  Letters,  No.  870.  They  are  also  in 
rime-royal. 

»  TempU  of  GUu,  1 .  309-10. 

*  Hiis  has  been  carefully  pointed  out  by  Skeat,  ibid.,  Ixiii. 


66  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

and  the  Leaf.  Consequently  one  may  choose  between  the  hypoth- 
eses; either  the  two  poems  were  written  by  the  same  person  at 
different  periods,  or  they  were  written  by  two  people,  one  in  imi- 
tation of  the  other.  As  no  one  has  been  able  to  name  a  probable 
author  of  either,  the  question  is  rather  academic.  In  any  case, 
whether  written  by  the  same  woman  or  different  women,  or  men 
in  the  name  of  women,  the  significant  inference  to  be  made  is  the 
same.  They  point  to  a  condition  of  society  when  woman  was  to 
be  considered.  The  Wars  of  the  Roses  had  given  place  to  settled 
life  and  the  court  had  resumed  its  social  function.  Consequently, 
as  in  Ariosto,  the  poet  of  the  Renaissance  sings,  not  only  the 
knights  and  their  feats,  but  also  ladies  and  loves.  ^ 

Le  donne,  i  cavalieri,  I'arme,  gli  amori 
Le  cortesie,  I'audaci  impresse  io  caato. 

This  point  of  view  seems  to  be  borne  out  by  the  incidental  ref- 
erences in  the  Assembly  of  Ladies.  It  opens  in  a  garden  with  five 
ladies,  attended  by  "knightes  and  squyers  many  one,"  walking  in 
the  cross-alleys.  One  thinks  of  the  English  love  of  gardens  stressed 
in  the  Utojria.  The  knight  is  warned,  when  he  begs  for  the  tale, 
that  it  is  no  "litel  thing", — which  seems  like  a  hit  at  the  Lydgate 
mannerism.  The  setting  proper  of  the  dream  is  attractive.  A 
whole  party  had  tried  to  penetrate  a  maze,  exactly  as  you  see  it 
today  at  Hampton  Court,  and  some,  exactly  as  you  see  them  to- 
day, had  lost  both  their  way  and  their  temper. 

For  very  wrath,  they  did  step  over  the  rayle. 

The  first  recorded  maze  that  I  can  find  is  that  at  Hampton  Court,  ^ 
which  is  too  late  for  our  poem.  As  Chaucer  uses  the  word,  they 
must  have  been  somewhat  common.  This  maze,  in  any  case,  had 
a  fountain,  set  round  with  margarettes,  forget-me-nots,  remember- 
mes  and  pansies;  certainly  it  was  a  "delectable  place".  Here  it 
is,  that  while  the  rest  of  the  party  are  finding  the  center,  the  hero- 
ine has  her  dream.  In  this,  the  architecture  of  the  palace  of 
Plesaunt  Regard  suggests  strongly  what  we  call  Tudor,  one  of  the 
best  examples  of  which  is  the  Henry  VIII  wing  of  Hampton  Court.' 

^  The  opening  of  the  Orlando  Furioso. 

*  Archeologia,  VII,  124,  126-1S27. 

•  Assembly  of  Ladies,  158-168. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  67 

Fairer  is  noon,  though  it  were  for  a  king 
Devysed  wel,  and  that  in  every  thing. 
The  toures  hy  ful  plesaunt  shul  ye  find. 
With  fanes  fressh,  turning  with  every  wind. 

The  chambers  and  parlours  both  of  oo  sort. 
With  bay-windowes,  goodly  as  may  be  thought. 
As  for  daunsing  and  other  wyse  disport; 
The  galeryes  right  wonder  wel  y-wrought. 
That  I  wel  wot,  if  ye  were  thider  brought,^ 
And  took  good  hede  thereof  in  every  wyse. 
Ye  wold  it  thinke  a  very  paradyse. 

Thus  in  the  account  of  the  building  of  Hampton  Court  there  are 
items  for  the  gilding  and  painting  of  vanes, — ^a  decorative  feature 
lost  in  the  present  building.  And  one  feels  that  Anthony  Trollope 
would  have  liked  Plesaunt  Regard  with  its  Tudor  bays,  because 
he  feels  that  "no  sort  or  description  of  window  is  capable  of  im- 
parting half  so  much  happiness  to  mankind."  And  the  mention 
of  galleries  also  suggests  the  Tudor  love  of  pageantry.  In  the  same 
vague  way  the  gorgeousness  of  the  costuming  brings  to  mind  Tudor 
splendor.^ 

And  furthermore,  to  speke  of  her  aray, 
I  shal  you  tel  the  maner  of  her  gown; 
Of  clothe  of  gold  ful  riche,  it  is  no  nay; 
The  colour  blew,  of  a  right  good  fasoun; 
In  tabard-wyse  the  sieves  hanging  doun; 
And  what  purfyl  there  was,  and  in  what  wyae. 
So  as  I  can,  I  shal  it  you  devyse. 

After  a  sort  the  coller  and  the  vent, 

Lyk  as  ermyne  is  mad  in  purfeling; 

With  grete  perles,  ful  fyne  and  orient. 

They  were  couched,  al  after  oon  worching. 

With  dyamonds  in  stede  of  powdering; 

The  sieves  and  purfiUes  of  assyse; 

They  were  (y-)  mad  (ful)  lyke,  in  every  wyse. 

Aboute  her  nekke  a  sort  of  fair  rubyes. 
In  whyte  floures  of  right  fyne  enaraayl; 
Upon  her  heed,  set  in  the  freshest  wyse, 
A  cercle  with  great  balays  of  cntayl; 

*  I  have  changed  Skeat's  period,  here,  to  a  comma. 

*  Attembly  of  Ladies,  ibid.,  51&-539. 


68  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

That,  in  emest  to  speke,  withouten  fayl. 
For  yonge  and  olde,  and  every  maner  age. 
It  waa  a  world  to  loke  on  her  visage. 

To  date  these  poems  accurately  is  manifestly  impossible.  During 
the  latter  half  of  the  fifteenth  century  the  language  is  too  fluctuat- 
ing to  give  definite  indications,  and  the  handwriting  of  the  manu- 
script at  Cambridge  is  not  a  safe  guide.  But  we  shall  not  be  far 
wrong  if  we  assume  them  to  have  been  written  during  the  reign  of 
Henry  VII. 

Another  poem  of  the  same  type  is  the  much  discussed  Court  of 
Love.  This  differs  from  the  previous  examples  in  that,  while  the 
language  they  employ  is  natural,  the  language  here  is  consciously 
archaic.^  The  truth  of  this  important  fact  has  been  established  by 
Professor  Lounsbury.  He  has  shown  that  the  grammatical  errors 
are  due  to  the  author  and  to  his  desire  to  imitate  the  language  of 
a  previous  age. 

These  are  the  errors  of  a  man  striving  to  do  what  he  has  not  the  special  knowl- 
edge to  accomplish.  So  large  a  number  of  impossible  forms — and  not  all  have  been 
given — cannot  be  attributed  to  gross  oversight  on  the  part  of  even  the  most  stupid 
of  scribes.  On  the  other  hand,  they  could  not  have  been  changes  made  inten- 
tionally. Such  changes  are  introduced  to  conform  to  the  language  of  a  later  time — 
to  put  something  which  the  copyist  understands  in  the  place  of  what  he  does  not 
understand.  He  would  be  little  likely  to  replace  grammatical  endings  that  were 
unknown  to  himself  by  other  endings  that  had  never  been  known  to  anybody. 

It  is  this  condition  of  literary  forgery  that  makes  the  dating  of  the 
Court  of  Love  so  perplexing.  The  only  extant  MS.  is  in  the 
Library  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  and  it  is  from  this  MS.  that 
the  poem  was  taken  by  Stowe  for  his  Chaucerian  apocrypha.  But 
this  rejection  of  the  printed  copy  merely  throws  us  back  into 
the  morass  of  dating  by  handwriting.  According  to  Professor 
Skeat,  "I  suppose  most  of  the  pieces  are  in  a  handwriting  of  a 
later  date,  not  far  from  1500;"  ^  and  again,  "the  handwriting  is 
later  than  1500".^  Later,  in  his  Supplementary  Volume,^  he  goes 
very  much  farther  in  the  supposition,  "that  we  have  here  the  work 
of  one  of  the  heralds  of  the  Elizabethan  poetry,  of  the  class  to 

1  Studies  in  Chaucer,  T.  R.  Lounsbury,  i,  497-503. 

*  Skeat,  Chaucer,  Vol.  I,  p.  56. 
» Ibid.,  42. 

*  Supplement  to  the  Works  of  Chaucer,  Ixxvi. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  69 

which  belonged  Nicholas  Grimoald,  Thomas  Sackville,  Lord 
Surrey,  Lord  Vaux,  and  Sir  Francis  Bryan."  Probably  it  is  safer 
to  agree  with  Professor  Neilson,^  when,  after  discussing  Skeat's 
arguments  he  concludes;  "Allowing  an  interval  to  account  for  the 
loss  of  some  of  Hawes'  inflections,  we  shall  probably  be  not  far 
astray  in  fixing  the  date  about  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of  the 
sixteenth  century." 

On  turning  to  the  context  of  the  poem  we  find  an  example  of 
the  familiar  type  of  erotic  allegory.  After  a  brief  apologetic  pro- 
logue the  author  in  the  first  person,  summoned  by  Mercury,  makes 
a  pilgrimage  to  the  Court  of  Love  on  Mount  Cithaeron.  There, 
guided  by  a  friend,  Philobone,  he  is  censured  by  Love  and  swears 
to  the  twenty  statutes  of  Love.  Then  he  is  conducted  by  Philobone 
to  the  presence  of  the  heroine  Rosiall,  who  is  finally  favorable  to 
his  suit.  A  second  tour  of  the  court  follows,  this  time  with  a  num- 
ber of  personifications  described.  It  ends  with  a  parody  on  a  re- 
Ugious  service,  sung  by  the  birds.  The  MS.  is  in  poor  condition 
and  even  with  Neilson's  suggested  emendation  of  inserting  the 
twelve  stanzas  (w.  1093-1176)  after  verse  266,  there  are  bad 
breaks.  From  this  brief  analysis  it  is  obvious  that  the  poem  falls 
into  four  parts;  the  prologue,  the  allegory  proper,  the  statutes, 
and  the  Matins  and  Lauds  sung  by  the  birds. 

As  might  be  supposed,  the  author  whom  he  especially  imitates  is 
Lydgate.    The  poem  opens  with  the  stock  apologetic  explanation. 

With  timerous  hert  and  trembling  hand  of  drede. 

Of  cunning  naked,  bare  of  eloquence. 

Unto  the  flour  of  port  in  womanhede 

I  write,  as  he  that  non  intelligence 

Of  metres  hath,  ne  floures  of  sentence:  .  .  . 

In  the  main  body  of  the  poem.  Dr.  Schick  ^  has  shown  so  large  a 
number  of  similarities  between  it  and  Lydgate's  Temple  of  Glas 
as  to  prove  that  the  author  knew  that  poem.  Particularly  is  this 
true  with  the  Statutes  of  Love,^  "which  recur  in  a  diluted  form 
in  the  Temple  of  Glas,  mostly  in  the  exhortations  given  by  Venus 

^  The  Origin  and  Sources  of  the  Court  of  Love,  by  William  Allan  Neilson,  1899,  p.  i. 
This  is  the  moat  careful  study  of  the  poem  yet  made. 

*  LydgaU't  Temple  of  GUu,  J.  Schick,  E.  E.  T.  S.,  1891. 

*  Ibid.,  czzxL 


70  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

to  the  Knight. "  Thus  the  first,  second,  third,  fifth,  sixth,  seventh, 
ninth,  tenth,  twelfth,  fourteenth  and  eighteenth  statutes  are 
suggested  by  passages  in  the  earlier  poem.  Curiously  enough  the 
versification,  however,  does  not  suggest  Lydgate.  His  peculiar 
broken-backed  line,  such  as 

A  crowne  of  gold,  rich  for  any  king  ^ 

is  rarely  used.  It  was  partly  this  perfection  of  the  metre  that 
led  Tyrwhitt  on  internal  evidence  not  to  reject  the  poem  as  by 
Chaucer.  At  least  the  author  has  used  as  models  Chaucer's  Legend 
of  Good  Women,  Parlement  of  Foules,  Hous  of  Fame,  and  Compleynt 
to  Pity,  and  ^  "the  total  result  gives  the  impression  of  a  very  de- 
voted disciple."  And,  as  Neilson  shows,  there  is  a  fair  probability 
that  he  knew  La  Messe  des  Oisiaus  of  Jean  de  Condfe  and  the 
Kingis  Quair  of  James  I  of  Scotland. 

This  very  enumeration  differentiates  the  Court  of  Love  from  the 
previous  poems  of  the  type.  Whereas  there  the  authors  were 
writing  normally,  here  the  impression  is  that  of  a  conscious 
Uterary  artist  deliberately  reviving  a  past  form.  Even  the  details 
have  precedents.  Philobone  "caught  me  by  the  lap"  before  the 
first  tour  of  the  Court;  so  likewise  Pandarus  starts  to  leave  Criseyde 
"Til  she  agayn  him  by  the  lappe  caughte".  .  .  ^  It  is  the  ac- 
cumulation of  imitative  touches  that  argues  against  its  being  the 
work  of  an  early  writer.  Any  one  feature,  such  as  the  Statutes  of 
Love,  or  the  Matins  of  the  Birds,  may  be  found  in  a  medieval 
poem, — ^the  peculiarity  here  is  that  they  are  all  united.  Like  so 
much  of  modern  architecture,  it  is  the  excess  of  the  peculiarities 
of  the  style  that  disproves  its  genuineness. 

That  the  poem  is  a  Renaissance  imitation  of  a  past  medieval 
form  is  also  suggested  by  occasional  details,  no  one  of  which  taken 
alone  would  be  conclusive.  The  architecture,  for  example,  has 
the  Tudor  bay  ^  and  great  expanse  of  windows.^  The  composition 
of  the  names,  Philobone  and  Philogenet,  as  Skeat  remarks  and 
Neilson  questions,  seems  to  point  to  a  period  of  the  early  Greek 
revival.  That  the  names  are  badly  formed  is  unquestionable;  the 
remarkable  feature  is  the  presence  at  all  of  the  Greek.  Still  more  re- 
markable is  the  impression  of  what  may  be  termed  vaguely  the  men- 

» Flower  and  Leaf,  1.172.  "  Neilson,  ibid.,  S239.  »  Troilus,  Bk.  2,  1.448. 

*  1.1058.  »  1.229. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  71 

tal  attitude.  The  eighteenth  statute,  for  example,  inculcates  clean- 
liness and  courtesy.  The  original  of  this  is  the  detailed  catalogue 
in  the  Ars  Amatoria,  i,  513  ff.,  that  the  toga  should  be  in  good  con- 
dition, the  teeth  brushed,  skin,  hair,  beard,  and  nails  clean,  etc. 
These  eight  Unes  from  Ovid  are  expanded  into  thirty  in  the 
Romaunt  of  the  Rose,  where  they  are  elaborately  adapted  to 
medieval  conditions.  Lydgate,  on  the  other  hand,  omits  the 
physical  details  to  stress  courtesy  in  two  lines  only.  In  the  Court 
of  Love  all  either  Roman  or  medieval  details  have  vanished,  the 
Lydgate  scarcely  stressed,  and  the  whole  told  with  a  touch  of 
humor. 

The  eighteenth  statut,  hoolly  to  commend. 
To  plese  thy  lady,  is.  That  thou  eschewe 
With  sluttishness  thy-self  for  to  offend; 
Be  joiif,  fresh,  and  fete,  with  thinges  newe. 
Courtly  with  maner,  this  is  all  thy  due, 
Gentill  of  port,  and  loving  clenlinesse; 
This  is  the  thing  that  lyketh  thy  maistresse. 

And  not  to  wander  lich  a  dulled  ass, 
Ragged  and  torn,  disgysed  in  array, 
Ribaud  in  speche,  or  out  of  mesure  pass. 
Thy  bound  exceding;  think  on  this  alway: 
For  women  been  of  tender  hertes  ay, 
And  lightly  set  their  plesire  in  a  place; 
Whan  they  misthink,  they  lightly  let  it  passe. 

The  second  stanza  certainly  was  not  written  seriously.  Still  more 
so  is  the  case  with  the  very  objectionable  sixteenth  statute, — ^a 
statute  that  has  not  been  found  in  any  previous  author.  When 
he  pleads  to  Rosiall  that  this  must  be  modified,  she  grants  his 
request. 

And  softly  than  her  colour  gan  appeare. 
As  rose  so  rede,  through-out  her  visage  all. 
Wherefore  me  think  it  is  according  here. 
That  she  of  right  be  cleped  Rosiall. 

That  she  should  blush  is  not  surprising!  Such  open  discussion  of 
the  physical  in  a  poem  marked  by  delicate  poetic  feeling  is  only 
comprehensible  if  one  remembers  the  antagonism  to  the  Christian 
ideal  brought  in  by  the  revival  of  humanism.  Much  the  same  is 
true  of  the  religious  attitude  in  the  poem.  Thus  in  the  Temple  of 
Glas  the  only  monks  and  nuns  who  lament  are  those  forced  into 


72  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

monastic  vows  in  childhood,  a  legitimate  medieval  condition.  In 
the  Court  of  Love  there  is  but  slight  stress  on  such  a  limitation. 
There  the  religious  vow  is  of  no  force. 

...  for  truly,  there  is  non 

Excepcion  mad,  ne  never  was  ne  may. 

Their  regrets  are  stated  with  Renaissance  frankness. 

O  why  be  som  so  sorry  and  so  sad. 
Complaining  thus  in  blak  and  whyte  and  gray? 
Freres  they  ben,  and  monkes,  in  good  fay: 
Alas,  for  rewth;  greet  dole  it  is  to  seen, 
To  see  thaim  thus  bewaile  and  sory  been. 

See  how  they  cry  and  wring  their  handes  whyte. 

For  they  so  sone  went  to  reUgion! 

And  eke  the  nonnes,  with  vaile  and  wimple  pUght, 

There  thought  that  they  ben  in  confusion: 

"Alas,"  thay  seyn,  'we  fayn  perfeccion. 

In  clothes  wide,  and  lak  our  liberte; 

But  all  the  sin  mote  on  our  frendes  be. 

For,  Venus  wot,  we  wold  as  fayn  as  ye. 
That  ben  attired  here  and  wel  besene, 
Desiren  man,  and  love  in  our  degree, 
Ferme  and  feithfull,  right  as  wold  the  queue: 
Our  frendes  wikke,  in  tender  youth  and  grene, 
Ayenst  our  will  made  us  religious; 
That  is  the  cause  we  mome  and  wailen  thus." 

Than  seid  the  monks  and  freres  in  the  tyde, 
"Wel  may  we  curse  our  abbeys  and  our  place, 
Otn-  statuts  sharp,  to  sing  in  copes  wyde. 
Ghastly  to  kepe  us  out  of  loves  grace. 
And  never  to  fele  comfort  ne  solace; 
Yet  suffre  we  the  hete  of  loves  fire. 
And  after  than  other  haply  we  desire. 

O  Fortune  cursed,  why  now  and  wherefore 
Hast  thow,"  they  seid,  "beraft  us  libertd, 
Sith  nature  yave  us  instrument  in  store. 
And  appetyt  to  love  and  lovers  be? 
Why  mot  we  suffer  suche  adversity, 
Diane  to  serve,  and  Venus  to  refuse? 
Ful  often  sith  this  matier  doth  us  muse. 

We  serve  and  honour,  sore  ayenst  our  will. 
Of  chastity  the  goddes  and  the  queue; 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  7S 

Us  leflfer  were  with  Venus  byden  still. 
And  have  reward  for  love,  and  soget  been 
Unto  this  women  courtly,  fressh,  and  shene. 
Fortune,  we  curse  thy  whele  of  variaunce! 
There  we  were  wele,  thou  revest  our  plesaunce." 

The  same  impression  of  slight  religious  feeling  and  a  cynical 
attitude  toward  it  is  given  by  the  parody  on  the  religious  service 
at  the  end  of  the  poem.  This  seems  detached  from  the  preceding 
and  complete  in  itself.  While  it  is  true  that  in  Jean  de  Conde  one 
finds  much  the  same  conception,  the  presumably  immediate 
source  is  Lydgate's  Devotion  of  the  Fowles.  This  is  reverential. 
It  is  merely  an  expansion  of  the  verse  from  the  Benedicite,  eng- 
lished  in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  as 

"O  all  ye  fowles  of  the  air,  bless  ye  the  Lord:  praise  him  and 
magnify  him  forever. " 

On  the  contrary  here  the  deity  addressed  is  not  the  Creator  of 
the  World, — it  is  the  God  of  Love,  and  the  terms  used  are 
identical. 

"Dominus  regnavit,"  seid  the  pecok  there, 
"The  Lord  of  Love,  that  mighty  prince,  y-wis. 
He  hath  received  here  and  every-where: 
Now  Jubilate  sing:" — "What  meneth  this?" 
Seid  than  the  linet;  "welcome.  Lord  of  blisse!" 
Out-stert  the  owl  with  "  Benedicite, 
What  meneth  al  this  mery  fare? "  quod  he. 

"Lavdate"  sang  the  lark  with  voice  full  shrill; 
And  eke  the  kite,  "  0  admirabile! 
This  quere  will  throgh  myne  eris  pers  and  thrill; 
But  what?  welcom  this  May  seson,"  quod  he; 
"And  honour  to  the  Lord  of  Love  mot  be. 
That  hath  this  feest  so  solemn  and  so  high:" 
"Amen,"  seid  all;  and  so  seid  eke  the  pye. 

The  protestant  reader  must  remember  that  these  Latin  phrases 
are  the  opening  words  of  the  Psalms,  that  they  were  familiarly 
employed  as  titles  to  the  various  Psalms,  and  that  as  such  they 
were  always  associated  with  religion.  The  irreverent  wit  consists 
in  using  sacred  words  in  a  profane  sense.  This  lack  of  religious 
feeling,  expressed  by  the  author  and  expected  by  the  readers,  is 
another  argument  for  a  late  date  of  composition. 

If  the  Court  of  Love  were  written  much  later  than  1500,  a  sur- 


74  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

prising  literary  condition  must  be  deduced.  The  author  of  it  is 
without  much  question  one  of  the  ablest  poets  between  Chaucer 
and  Wyatt.  It  has  much  of  Chaucer's  wit  and  lightness  of  touch. 
Whoever  "Philogenet,  of  Cambridge  clerk"  may  have  been,  he 
created  a  poem  that  on  aesthetic  grounds  alone  may  well  have  been 
attributed  to  the  master.  As  an  imitator  he  is  more  successful 
than  Spenser.  But  the  question  arises,  why  did  he  attempt  this 
tour  de  force?  The  answer  is,  I  think,  that  without  the  originality 
of  Skelton,  he  saw  around  him  no  literary  models  except  those  of 
the  past.  So  he  tried  to  turn  back  the  hands  of  the  clock,  and  was 
of  course  foredoomed  to  failure.  The  old  formal  erotic  allegory 
was  out  of  touch  with  the  ideas  of  the  new  age,  ideas  waiting  for 
the  proper  expression.  Consequently  the  Court  of  Love  is  pre- 
served in  a  single  manuscript,  and  remained  unprinted  until  Stowe 
in  1561  included  it  in  his  edition  of  Chaucer.    Its  day  was  past. 

Contemporaneous  with  the  erotic  allegory,  there  is  a  second 
variant,  the  moral  allegory.  While  the  first  aims  primarily  to 
amuse,  the  second  aims  primarily  to  instruct.  Otherwise  there 
are  the  same  general  characteristics,  namely  the  dream-structure, 
the  use  of  personifications,  the  allegorical  framework,  and  the 
rime-royal  as  verse  form.  And,  again  like  the  first,  the  master  is 
Lydgate.  At  the  opening  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  great 
exponent  of  this  form  is  Stephen  Hawes,  "one  of  the  gromes  of 
the  most  honorable  chamber  of  our  souerayne  lorde  Kynge  Henry 
the  Seventh."  Aside  from  this  statement  (whatever  that  may 
mean!),  which  was  evidently  considered  of  paramount  importance 
since  it  appears  on  the  frontispiece  of  almost  all  of  his  works,  our 
knowledge  of  him  is  pitiably  meagre.  The  date  of  his  birth,  usually 
given  as  1475,  seems  very  doubtful.^    Nor  are  the  incidental  facts 

^  It  is  based  upon  the  identification  of  the  poet  with  the  hero  in  the  Pastime  of 
Pleasure.    In  the  Percy  Society  reprint  the  passage  reads 

I  thought  me  past  al  chyldly  ygnoraunce, 

The  XXXI.  yere  of  my  yonge  flourynge  aege;  Cap.  xxvii. 

Unhappily  the  first  edition  has  "xxi!"  I  owe  this  fact  to  the  kindness  of  Professor 
A.  K.  Potter  of  Brown  University,  who  has  collected  material  for  a  definitive  edition 
of  Hawes.  With  a  generosity  as  scholarly  as  it  is  rare  he  has  allowed  me  to  steal  his 
thunder;  the  very  least  that  I  can  do  is  to  acknowledge  the  voice  of  Jove.  Aside 
from  this  doubtful  reading,  the  hero  of  the  Example  of  Virtue  (1504)  announces 
that  he  is  sixty.  Dunbar  Anthology,  285.  Southey's  reprint  British  poets,  1831, 
however,  gives  the  correct  reading  of  the  first  edition  of  The  Pastime. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  75 

discovered  by  modern  research  much  more  reliable  since  the  names 
Stephen  and  Hawes,  or  Hawys,  are  not  unusual  and  the  scattered 
references  need  not  refer  to  the  poet.  Aside  from  certain 
items  in  the  expense  account  of  the  king  in  regard  to  court 
ceremonials,  the  most  interesting  are  that  in  1506  a  "Hawse" 
received  "10  s.  for  a  ballet,"  ^  and  in  1521  "Mr.  Hawse  for  his 
play  VI£  Xins.IIIId."2  1505-1506  would  be  the  twenty-first 
year  of  Henry  VII's  reign,  the  time  stated  in  the  colophon  of  the 
composition  of  the  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  which  is  elaborately 
dedicated  to  the  King.  Yet  to  describe  this  as  a  "ballad"  is 
possible  only  on  the  not  improbable  assumption  that  the  account- 
ant had  never  read  it,  and  ten  shillings  is  certainly  not  an  extrav- 
agant reward  for  a  poem  that  extends  through  forty-five  chapters. 
It  was  perhaps  this  experience  that  made  him  write. 

Our  late  souerayne  his  fader  excellent 

I  knowe  ryghte  well  some  holde  oppynyon 
That  to  auaryce  he  had  entenddment 

Gadrynge  grete  rychesse  of  this  his  regyon.  .  .  .  • 

a  condition  for  which  he  apologizes  on  the  ground  that  Henry 
might  have  been  accumulating  riches  in  order  to  make  war  on  the 
Turks.  What  the  play  was,  there  is  no  means  of  guessing.  In  1523 
there  is  a  will  of  a  Stephen  Hawes  proved.  This  probably  refers  to 
the  poet  as  in  the  Controversy  between  a  Lover  and  a  Jay,  undated 
but  probably  before  1530,  he  is  alluded  to  in  the  past  tense.  The 
earUest  life,  that  by  Bale,''  consists  in  pleasant  epitaph- like  gen- 
eralizations. The  statement,  however,  that  he  studied  in  England, 
Scotland,  and  France,  when  Henry's  French  predilections  are 
remembered,  explains  his  being  the  groom  of  the  chamber  much 
more  than  that  he  was  called  to  it  by  the  "  sole  commendation  of 
virtue. "  Anthony  Wood  ^  adds  that  he  studied  at  Oxford,  but 
without  taking  a  degree.  He  also  is  the  authority  for  the  horrify- 
ing statement  that  "he  could  repeat  by  Heart  most  of  our  English 
Poets;  especially  Jo.  Lydgate  a  Monk  of  Bury,  whom  he  made 

*  Dictionary  of  National  Bioffraphy. 

*  Quoted  by  Dr.  Burkart,  Stephen  Hawes  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  London,  1899. 

'  A  Joyfidl  Medytacyon,  edited  for  the  Abbotsford  Club,  by  David  Laing,  1865. 

*  Scriptorum  Jlluslrium  Maioris  Brytanniae,  1559-L.  63£. 

*  Athena  Oxoniensis. 


76  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

equal  in  some  Respects  with  GeflF.  Chaucer. "  But  we  know  little 
more  of  him  than  that  he  was  "somtyme  grome  of  ye  chambre 
of  our  late  souerayne  lorde  kynge  Henry  ye  seuenth. "  ^ 

Without  discussing  the  apocryphal  works  mentioned  by  Bale, 
Hawes  is  represented  in  English  literature  by  five  poems.  As  it 
is  his  habit  to  state  upon  the  title  page  the  date  of  the  composition 
according  to  the  number  of  years  of  the  reign,  it  is  simple  to  ar- 
range them  in  chronological  sequence. 

1.  The  Example  of  Virtue.  1504.2 

2.  The  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  1506. 

3.  The  Conuercyon  of  Swerers,  printed  1509. 

4.  A  JoyfvU  medytacyon  to  all  Englonde  of  the  coronacyon  of  our  moost  naturall 
souerayne  lorde  kynge  Henry  the  eyght,  undated  (1509?). 

5.  The  Comfort  oflouers  (1512).» 

As  the  fifth  is  inaccessible,  and  the  third  and  fourth  are  compara- 
tively short  poems,  his  poetic  reputation  rests  upon  the  first  and 
second.  That  in  his  own  age  it  was  great  is  shown  by  the  sur- 
prising number  of  editions.  The  Example  was  reprinted  in  1530; 
the  Conuercyon,  in  1551,  and  again  undated;  and  the  Pastime 
again  in  1517,  1554,  and  twice  in  1555.^  Thus  whatever  may  be 
the  modern  critical  opinion  of  Hawes  as  a  poet,  it  must  be  recog- 
nized that  he  satisfied  certain  demands  of  his  time. 

His  theory  of  poetry,  like  that  of  Lydgate,  may  be  traced  to 
Boccaccio.  The  De  Genealogia  Deorum  gives,  as  the  name  imports, 
the  genealogies  of  the  pagan  pantheon.  As  many  of  the  relation- 
ships among  the  gods  are  abominable  from  a  moral  point  of  view, 
in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  books,  "the  first  defense  of  poesy 
in  honor  of  his  own  art  by  a  poet  of  the  modern  world  ",  Boccaccio 
is  forced  to  accept  the  medieval  position  of  an  allegorical  inter- 

^  Wynkyn  de  Worde's  colophon  to  the  JoyfuU  Medytacyon. 

'  The  anonymous  contributor  of  the  article  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biog- 
raphy, owing  to  the  mutilation  of  the  copy  in  the  Pepysian  Library,  Cambridge, 
conjectures  the  date,  1512.  The  title,  however,  reads  "the  nineteenth  year  of  his 
(Henry  VII)  most  noble  reign."  Consequently  1503-1504  is  at  least  the  date  of 
composition. 

'  The  Comfort  of  Lovers,  never  reprinted,  exists  in  an  unique  copy  at  Ham  House. 
My  transcription  is  due  to  the  generosity  of  Professor  Potter  to  whom  Lord  Dysart 
gave  permission  to  photograph  the  volume. 

*  These  dates  are  taken  from  Burkart. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  77 

pretation.  As  summarized  by  Professor  Spingam,*  the  theory 
is  as  follows:  "The  reality  of  poetry  is  dependent  on  its  allegorical 
foundations;  its  moral  teachings  are  to  be  sought  in  the  hidden 
meanings  discoverable  beneath  the  literal  expression;  pagan  poetry 
is  defended  for  Christianity  on  the  ground  that  the  references  to 
Greek  and  Roman  gods  and  rituals  are  to  be  regarded  only  as 
symbolic  truths.  The  poet's  function,  for  Boccaccio,  as  for  Dante 
and  Petrarch,  was  to  hide  and  obscure  the  actual  truth  behind  a 
veil  of  beautiful  fictions — veritatem  rerum  pulchris  velaminibus 
adomare." 

This  theory  was  adopted  by  Hawes  and  carried  to  its  logical 
conclusion.    The  aim  of  poetry  is 

By  the  laboure  of  inventyfe  busynes, 
Touchynge  the  trouthe  by  covert  lykenes 
To  dysnull  vyce  and  the  vycious  to  blame;  ^ 

the  method  is  so  to  write  that  there  is  both  a  literal  and  a  symbolic 
meaning.^ 

It  was  the  guyse  in  old  antiquyte. 
Of  famous  poets  ryght  ymaginatife. 
Fables  to  fayne  by  good  auctorite; 
They  were  so  wyse  and  so  inventife, 
Theyr  obscure  reason,  fayre  and  sugratife. 
Pronounced  trouthe  under  cloudy  figures. 
By  the  inventyon  of  theyr  fatall  scriptures. 

And  the  author  played  a  stimulating  game  of  catch-as-catch-can 
with  his  reader.  Not  to  understand  him  was  to  confess  your  own 
inefficiency.^ 

But  rude  people,  opprest  with  blyndnes, 
Agaynst  your  fables  wyll  often  solisgyse, 
Syche  is  theyr  mynde,  such  is  theyr  folyschnes; 
For  they  beleve  in  no  maner  of  wyse 
That  under  a  colour  a  trouth  may  aryse. 
For  folysh  people,  blynded  in  a  matter. 
Will  often  erre  what  they  of  it  do  clatter. 

This  whole  point  of  view  has  been  so  lost  that  it  is  necessary  to 
explain  it.    Our  ideas  of  allegory  are  formed  from  the  clarity  of  the 

*  A  Hittory  cf  Literary  Criticism  in  the  Renaissance,  J.  E.  Spingam,  1899,  p.  9. 
«  P.  of  P.,  Cap.  VIII.  » Ibid.  *  Ibid..  Cap.  IX. 


78  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Pilgrim's  Progress.  With  this  as  the  norm,  we  turn  back  to  the 
earlier  work.  By  doing  this  we  are  unfair.  Much  of  modern  crit- 
icism of  the  Faerie  Queene,  for  example,  would  have  been  regarded 
by  Spenser  as  irrelevant.  As  the  pleasure  consisted  in  guessing 
the  significance,^ 

Specyally  poetes  under  cloudy  fygures 
Couered  the  trouthe  of  all  theyr  scryptures. 

there  was  no  obligation  on  the  part  of  the  poet  to  be  intelligible. 
It  is  for  the  reader  to  disperse  the  clouds. 

The  poems  of  Hawes  in  whole  and  in  part  illustrate  this  poetic 
theory.  The  first,  the  Example  of  Virtue,  has  all  the  characteristics 
of  the  form;  the  body  of  the  poem  is  a  dream,  in  which  the  hero. 
Youth,  conducted  by  Discretion,  after  having  been  instructed  by 
Nature,  Hardiness  (courage).  Fortune,  and  Wisdom,  all  person- 
ified as  women,  passes  the  bridge  of  Purity,  resists  Sensuality  and 
Pride,  and,  defended  by  the  armor  of  St.  Paul,  defeats  the  dragon, 
whose  three  heads  are  the  World,  the  Flesh  and  the  Devil;  he 
then  marries  Cleanliness  at  a  wedding  attended  by  all  the  apostles, 
saints,  and  martyrs.  After  a  brief  tour  of  Hell,  they  both  die,  and 
the  poem  ends  with  an  apostrophe  to  the  King  and  the  usual  apol- 
ogy. This  is  clearly  the  glorified  life  of  the  Christian  knight.  The 
author  is  also  careful  to  explain  his  personifications.  First  follows 
a  description,  for  example,  of  the  King  of  Love  (who  must  have 
been  worth  seeing!)  and  then  the  "moralization."  It  is  worth 
quoting  as  an  illustration  of  his  method.^ 

He  sat  in  a  Chair  right  clear  and  excellent. 
At  the  upper  end  of  the  Hall  above. 
He  sat  still,  and  did  not  remove, 

Gird(ed)  with  willows;  and  might  not  see 

No  manner  of  thing  in  his  degree. 

He  had  two  wings  right  large  and  great. 

And  his  body  also  was  naked; 
And  a  dart  in  his  right  hand  was  set. 

And  a  torch  in  his  left  hand  brenned. 

*  TTie  Ginuercyon,  Prologue. 

'  From  the  Dunbar  Anthology,  stanzas  182-188.  In  fact,  the  frontispiece  of  the 
first  edition  illustrates  this  figure;  in  the  second,  the  1530  edition,  the  illustration 
ahows  the  debate. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  79 

A  bottle  about  his  neck  was  hanged; 
His  one  leg  armed,  and  naked  the  other. 
Him  for  to  see,  it  was  a  wonder. 

Sapience  bade  me  marvel  nothing 

For  she  would  shew  me  the  signification 
Why  he  so  sat,  by  short  reckoning. 
According  to  a  moralization. 
Now,  of  the  first  to  make  relation. 
Love  should  be  gird(ed)  fast  with  stability. 
Without  which  love  can  have  no  surety. 

This  has  all  the  charm  found  in  the  exposition  of  a  mathematical 
problem.  For  this  type  of  work  all  that  is  needed  is  a  little  in- 
genuity and  plenty  of  time.  It  is  quite  comprehensible  that  a  man 
with  leisure  might  amuse  himself  in  constructing  such  allegorical 
puzzles,  and  it  is  very  possible  that  this  poem,  Uke  the  Conversion 
of  Swearersy  "was  made  to  eschewe  ydlenesse." 

That  something  like  this  was  his  attitude  is  shown  by  the  title 
of  his  second  work,  The  Pastime  of  Pleasure.  As  this  is  commonly 
regarded  as  his  masterpiece,  I  quote  Morley's  epitome  of  it  com- 
pletely.^ 

Graund  Amoiu*  passed  through  the  fair  meadow  of  Youth,  and  then  came  to  the 
choice  between  two  highways  of  life,  the  way  of  Contemplation — that  was  life  in  a 
religious  order — and  the  way  of  Active  Life.  He  took  the  way  of  Active  Life,  met 
Fame  with  her  two  greyhounds,  Grace  and  Govemaunce,  who  told  him  of  La  Bel 
Pucell,  in  whom  Hawes  represented  the  true  aim  of  life,  only  attainable  through 
many  labours.  Then  he  first  visited  the  Tower  of  Doctrine,  and  was  introduced  to 
her  seven  daughters.  These  were  the  seven  sciences,  arranged  of  old  into  three. 
Grammar,  Logic,  Rhetoric,  forming  what  was  called  the  "Trivium;"  and  four. 
Arithmetic,  Music,  Geometry,  Astronomy,  which  formed  the  "Quadrivium." 
When,  in  his  introduction  to  these  seven  daughters  of  Doctrine,  Graimd  Amoure 
had  advanced  to  Music,  he  found  her  playing  on  an  organ  in  her  tower,  and  it  was 
then  that  he  first  saw  his  ideal.  La  Bel  Pucell.  He  told  his  love  to  her,  and  danced 
with  her  to  sweet  harmony.  This  means  that  the  youth  who  has  advanced  far 
enough  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  to  have  ears  for  the  grand  harmonies  of  life,  is 
for  a  time  brought  face  to  face  with  the  bright  ideal  to  be  sought  through  years  of 
forward  battle. 

La  Bel  Pucell  went  to  her  distant  home;  and  Graund  Amoure,  after  receiving 
counsel  from  Geometry  and  Astronomy,  proceeded  to  the  Castle  of  Chivalry, 
prayed  in  the  Temple  of  Mars,  within  which  was  Fortune  at  her  wheel,  and  on  his 
way  to  the  Temple  of  Venus  met  Godfrey  Gobilive,  who  spoke  ill  of  women.    This 

•  Morley's  Engluh  Writers,  7.73.  I  prefer  this  to  my  own  since  it  will  as  far  as 
possible  eliminate  the  personal  equation  from  the  discussion. 


80  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

part  is  in  couplets.  They  went  to  the  Temple  of  Venus;  but  Godfrey  was  overtaken 
by  a  lady  named  Correction,  with  a  knotted  whip,  who  said  that  he  was  False 
Report,  escaped  in  disguise  from  his  prison  in  the  Tower  of  Chastity.  To  that 
Tower  the  Lady  Correction  introduced  Graimd  Amoure.  As  the  adventurer  pro- 
ceeded on  his  way  he  fought  a  giant  with  three  heads,  named  Falsehood,  Imagina- 
tion, Perjury,  and  cut  his  heads  off  with  the  sword  of  Claraprudence.  Then  he 
proceeded  through  other  adventures,  which  carried  on  the  allegory  of  steadfast 
endeavour  till  Graund  Amoure  saw  the  stately  palace  of  La  Bel  Pucell  uj)on  an 
island  beyond  a  stormy  ocean.  After  the  water  has  been  crossed,  there  was  still  to 
be  quelled  a  monster  against  which  Graimd  Amoure  could  only  defend  himself  by 
annointing  his  sword  with  the  ointment  of  Pallas.  The  last  victory  achieved, 
Graund  Amoure  was  received  into  the  palace  by  Peace,  Mercy,  Justice,  Reason, 
Grace,  and  Memory;  and  he  was  married  next  morning  to  La  Bel  Pucell  by  Lex 
Ecclesise  (Law  of  the  Church).  After  his  happy  years  with  her.  Old  Age  came  one 
day  into  Graund  Amoure's  chamber,  and  struck  him  on  the  breast;  Policy  and 
Avarice  came  next.  Graund  Amoure  became  eager  to  heap  up  riches.  Death 
warned  him  that  these  must  be  left.  After  the  warning.  Contrition  and  Conscience 
came  to  him  before  he  died.  Mercy  and  Charity  then  buried  him.  Fame  wrote  his 
epitaph.    Time  and  Eternity  pronoimced  the  final  exhortation  of  the  poem. 

And  the  poem  ends  with  an  apology. 

By  a  comparison  of  these  analyses  the  striking  similarity  be- 
tween the  two  poems  is  at  once  apparent.  In  each  the  yoimg  hero 
is  educated  by  personified  abstractions,  falls  in  love  with  the  hero- 
ine by  report,  is  allowed  to  see  her,  is  separated  from  her  by  water, 
is  armed  with  the  armour  of  Saint  Paul,  undergoes  trials,  slays  a 
dragon  or  dragons,  is  married,  and  finally  dies  of  old  age.  Both 
seem  equally  examples  of  virtue.^  Naturally  as  the  second  has 
seven  hundred  and  fifty-five  stanzas,  with  several  pages  of  heroic 
couplet,  in  addition  to  the  three  hundred  of  the  first,  there  is  a 
good  deal  more  material.  Even  then  the  poverty  of  his  invention 
is  shown  by  the  fact  that  he  duplicates  the  adventures.  In  The 
Example  the  hero  kills  one  dragon,  and  in  The  Pastime  two.  This 
is  clearly  illustrated  by  a  comparison  of  the  two  passages  describ- 
ing the  armor. 

This  is  the  armour  for  the  soul. 

That,  in  his  Epistle,  wrote  Saint  Paid. 

Good-Hope  thy  Leg-harness  shall  be. 

The  Habergeon  of  Righteousness  gird(ed)  with  Chastity, 

*  Professor  Murison  (Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature,  2,259)  distinguishes 
them  as  follows:  "In  his  two  long  poems,  he  has  the  same  didactic  aim — to  portray  a 
man's  struggles  to  attain  his  ideal;  moral  purity  in  the  Example  of  Virtue,  worldly 
glory  in  the  Passetyme  of  Pleasure  ..."   I  fail  to  see  this  distinction. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  81 

The  Placard  of  Business,  with  branches  of  Alms-deed* 
The  Shield  of  Belief,  and  Meekness  for  the  head. 
Thy  Sword  shall  be,  thee  to  defend. 
The  Word  of  God,  the  Devil  to  blend! 

The  Example  of  Virttie,  stanza  196 

For  fyrst,  good  hope  his  legge  hameys  sholde  be; 

His  habergion  of  perfyte  ryghtwysenes; 

Gyrde  faste  wyth  the  gyrdle  of  chastite. 

His  riche  placarde  should  be  good  besines, 

Brandred  with  almes  so  full  of  larges; 

The  helmet  mekenes,  and  the  shelde  good  fayth; 

His  swerde  Goddes  worde,  as  saynt  Poule  sayth. 

The  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  Cap.  XXVH. 

This  does  not  mean  that  The  Pastime  is  merely  an  enlarged  edition 
of  The  Example.  The  inference  is  that  after  he  had  finished  the 
first  poem,  he  amused  himself  by  constructing  the  second  on  much 
the  same  lines. 

The  fundamental  difference  between  the  two  poems  lies  in  the 
treatment  of  the  educational  sections.  Nearly  one  half  of  The 
Example,  one  hundred  and  twenty-seven  stanzas,  is  filled  by  the 
debate  between  Nature,  Fortune,  Hardiness,  and  Wisdom  as  to 
which  of  them  is  most  important  to  mankind;  roughly  the  same 
proportion  of  space  is  used  in  The  Pastime  to  personify  the  studies 
of  the  formal  medieval  curriculum.  The  explanation  of  this  differ- 
ence is  little  flattering  to  Hawes'  inventiveness.*  His  intense  ad- 
miration for  Lydgate  has  already  been  mentioned.  In  the  list  of 
Lydgate's  works  there  enumerated  it  is  stated  that 

He  fayned  also  the  courte  of  Sapyence 

This,  the  earliest  attribution  of  the  Court  of  Sapience  to  Lydgate, 
has  been  denied  on  internal  evidence  by  MacCracken.^  Presuma- 
bly Hawes'  admiration  for  the  poem  led  him  to  ascribe  it  to  his 
master.  The  hero  of  this  walks  through  a  beautiful  meadow, 
watered  by  the  clear  river  Quiete.  There  he  meets  a  beautiful 
lady,  accompanied  by  her  two  sisters,  from  whom  he  craves 

^  Ten  Brink,  English  Literature,  2,297,  is  extreme  in  his  statement;  "  Hawes  is 
very  far  from  being  able  to  compete  with  Lydgate  in  poetic  productivity,  yet  he 
excels  him,  perhaps,  in  the  art  of  invention  and  in  working  out  allegorical  motives." 

*  Minor  Poems  of  Lydgate,  xxxv. 


82  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

instruction.  The  first  book  is  a  disputation  between  the  four 
daughters  of  a  king  (God)  named  Mercy,  Peace,  Truth,  and  Right- 
eousness, on  behalf  of  a  criminal  servant  (Adam)  who  is  to  suffer 
death.  The  second  book  then  conducts  him  to  the  Court  of  Sa- 
pience where  he  is  instructed  in  the  utility  of  the  seven  liberal  arts.^ 
Hawe's  method  of  procedure  is  now  obvious.  Using  as  a  model 
the  work  he  admired,  in  The  Example,  he  copied  the  scheme  of  the 
dream  structure  and  debate  of  the  first  book;  in  The  Pastime,  the 
scheme  of  the  Court  of  Sapience  of  the  second  book.  Yet  as  the 
age  did  not  recognize  property  rights  in  ideas,  it  is  somewhat  diffi- 
cult to  run  down  the  immediate  source  of  any  given  detail.  Cer- 
tain conceptions  were  common  to  all.  Thus,  although  there  is  some 
similarity  between  the  Cuer  d^ amours  epris  of  King  Rene  of  Anjou 
and  the  Theuerdank  of  Emperor  MaximiUan  and  The  Pastime,  it 
is  a  similarity  in  genre.  Still  more  is  this  true  when  arises  the  ques- 
tion concerning  the  origin  of  any  particular  part,  such  as  the  Tower 
of  Doctrine  and  the  seven  personified  arts.  The  main  motive  for 
this  Courthope  finds  in  Martianus  Capella,^  and  Dr.  Hans  Natter 
suggests  that  the  "tower"  may  come  from  the  woodcut  in  the  Mar- 
garita Philisophica  of  Reisch  of  Freiburg.^  While  either  of  these 
hypotheses  is  a  possibility,  it  is  yet  a  far  cry  from  the  medieval  or 
the  renaissance  German.  The  most  probable  source,  so  far  as  there 
may  be  any  conceivable  importance  attached  to  it,  is  as  Professor 
Potter  suggests,  Caxton's  version  of  the  Image  du  Monde,^  although 
Dr.  Natter  insists  that  the  French  original  is  the  "hauptquelle." 
Against  Dr.  Natter  may  be  urged  certain  verbal  resemblances  and 
the  fact  that,  as  Caxton,  the  court  printer,  published  two  editions, 

^  The  Court  of  Sapience  was  announced  in  preparation  for  the  E.  E.  T.  S.  by  Dr. 
Borsdorf,  but  withdrawn.    This  outline  is  condensed  from  Burkart. 

*  History  of  English  Poetry,  i,  382. 

*  Untersuchung  der  Quellen  von  Stephen  Hawes'  allegorischen  Gedichte  "Pastime  of 
Pleasure."  von  Dr.  Hans  Natter,  Passau,  1911. 

*  In  order  that  the  reader,  if  he  wishes,  may  compare  the  two,  the  passages  de- 
scribing geometry  are  subjoined. 

The  fythe  is  called  geometrye,  the  whiche  more  auaylleth  to  Astronomye  than 
ony  of  the  vii  other;  ffor  by  her  is  compassed  and  mesured  Astronomye.  Thus 
is  by  geometrye  mesured  alle  thingis  where  the  is  mesure.  By  geometrye  may  be 
knowen  ye  cours  of  the  sterres  whiche  alleway  go  and  meue,  and  the  gretenes  of  the 
firmament,  of  the  sonne,  of  the  mone  and  of  the  erthe.  By  geometrye  may  be 
knowen  alle  thynges,  and  also  the  quantyte;  they  may  not  be  fo  farre,  yf  they  may 
be  seen  or  espyed  with  eye,  but  it  may  be  knowen.  Who  wel  vnderstode  geometrie, 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  83 

1481  (?)  and  1490,  Hawes  almost  certainly  was  familiar  with  his 
translation.  In  any  case  he  elaborates  and  expands  his  material, 
levying  contributions  from  Lydgate  and  from  other  authors.^ 
Occasional  lines  suggest  vague  reminiscenses  of  Chaucer.  Thus 
the  critic  is  forced  to  praise  his  memory  at  the  expense  of  his 
originaUty. 

Another  feature  that  diflferentiates  The  Pastime  from  The  Ex- 
ample is  the  introduction  in  the  former  of  the  Grodfrey  Gobilive 
episode.  It  there  serves  as  comic  relief.  The  tone  is  one  of  very 
broad  comedy  of  the  type  of  the  fabliaux;  the  language  is  exceed- 
ingly coarse.  The  stories  told  are  of  the  senile  Aristotle  and  of 
the  enchanter  Vergil.  Although  these  are  in  the  Temple  of  Glasy 
both  were  so  diffused  throughout  medieval  literature  that  Hawes 
may  have  gotten  them  almost  anywhere.     Yet  on  the  weary 

he  myght  mesure  in  alle  maistryes;  flfor  by  mesure  was  the  world  made,  and  alle 
thinges  hye,  lowe  and  deep. 

Caxton's  Mirrour  of  the  World,  ed.,  O.  H.  Prior  for  the  E.  E.  T.  S.,  p.  88. 

My  science,  she  sayd,  it  is  moost  profitable 
Unto  Astronomy,  for  I  do  it  mesure 
In  every  thing  as  it  is  probable; 
For  I  my  selfe  can  ryght  well  discure 
Of  every  sterre,  which  is  sene  in  ure. 
The  mervaylous  gretnes  by  my  mesuring; 
For  God  made  all  at  the  begynnyng. 

By  good  mesuryng  both  the  heyght  and  the  depnes 

Of  every  thing,  as  I  miderstand. 

The  length  and  brede  with  all  the  greatnes, 

Of  the  firmament  so  compassing  the  land; 

And  who  my  cunning  list  to  take  in  hand. 

In  his  emyspery  of  hye  or  low  degre 

Nothing  there  is  but  it  may  measure  be. 

Though  that  it  be  from  us  hye  and  farre. 
If  ony  thing  fall  we  may  it  truely  sem. 
As  the  Sonne  or  moone  or  any  other  sterre. 
We  may  thereof  know  well  the  quantite. 
Who  of  this  science  dooth  know  the  certaynte. 
All  maysteries  might  measure  perfytely; 
For  geometry  doth  shew  it  openly. 

Pastime  oj  Pleasure,  Percy  Society,  p.  100. 

i  For  example,  Lydgatc's  Temple  of  Glaa. 


84  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

reader  the  dominant  effect  of  the  passage  is  that  of  surprise,  sur- 
prise that  it  should  be  there  at  all,  and,  after  the  monotonous 
rime-royal,  the  use  of  the  heroic  couplet  is  rather  a  relief.  So, 
up  to  this  point  in  the  investigation,  Hawes  may  be  considered 
merely  as  a  continuator  of  the  medieval  tradition.  He  is  dull,  in- 
coherent, verbose.  Dr.  Schick  quotes  Scott  as  saying  that  Hawes 
is  "a  bad  imitator  of  Lydgate,  ten  times  more  tedious  than  the 
original,"  with  the  grim  addendum  that  it  "means  not  a  little!" 
This  opinion  is  comprehensible  since  the  first  parts  of  both  poems 
have  almost  no  action  and  consist  of  interminable  disquisitions 
full  of  poorly  phrased  commonplace. 

But  this  criticism  does  not  apply  to  the  second  halves  of  the 
same  poems.  Here  the  action  is  rapid,  varied  and  romantic.  The 
reader  is  hurried  from  adventure  to  adventure,  each  more  marvel- 
lous than  the  last.  And  the  break  between  these  two  divisions  is 
marked  by  scarcely  any  transition.  In  The  Exampley  for  instance, 
after  the  interminable  debate,  which  has  no  particular  relation 
with  what  is  to  follow.  Dame  Sapience  begins  the  new  part  with 
the  unexpected  remark  that  the  hero  had  better  get  married.  And 
the  lack  of  sequence  is  still  further  shown  by  the  fact  that  only  a 
little  later  in  the  poem  the  hero,  again  meeting  Sapience,  has 
apparently  never  seen  her  before.  Although  in  The  Pastime  the 
transition  is  better  managed,  in  neither  poem  consequently  is 
there  any  unity.  Apparently  he  composed  them  as  he  went  along, 
without  much  regarding  what  had  preceded  and  without  fore- 
seeing what  was  to  follow  except  vaguely.^  Naturally  then  it  is 
useless  to  discuss  the  proportionate  space  given  to  the  separate 
episodes,  or  the  relation  between  them.  And  as  their  sequence 
is  chronological,  the  composition  is  of  the  type  familiar  to  the 
modem  reader  in  the  Morte  d' Arthur  or  The  Recuyell  of  the  Histor- 
yes  of  Troye,  where  the  charm  Ues  in  the  quaintness  of  the  language 
and  of  the  particular  incident. 

Unhappily  it  cannot  be  said  that  the  episodes  here,  taken  sep- 
arately, are  very  attractive.  The  love  passage  in  the  garden  be- 
tween Amoure  and  Pucel  has  a  certain  formal  quaintness,  but  in 
general  Hawes'  descriptions  consist  merely  in  catalogues  of  events 
or  of  characteristics  of  persons.   Thus  night  after  night  he  solemnly 

^  In  The  Pastime,  Cap.  iv,  the  hero  is  shown  an  arras  picturing  his  future  adven- 
tures; these,  however,  do  not  exactly  correspond  with  the  presentment. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  85 

puts  the  hero  to  bed.    Or,  when  he  wishes  to  impress  the  reader 
with  the  beauty  of  the  heroine,  he  resorts  to  an  inventory.* 

Her  shining  here  so  properly  she  dresses 
Alofe  her  forehed  with  fayre  golden  tresses. 

Her  forehead  stepe,  with  fayre  browes  ybent. 
Her  eyen  gray,  her  nose  streyght  and  fayre. 
In  her  whyte  chekes  the  fayre  blond  it  went 
As  among  the  whyte  the  rede  to  repayre: 
Her  mouth  right  small,  her  breth  swete  of  ayre. 
Her  lyppes  softe  and  ruddy  as  a  rose. 
No  hert  on  ly  ve  but  it  wold  him  appose. 

Wyth  a  lyttle  pytte  in  her  well-favored  chynne; 
Her  necke  .  .  .  etc. 

The  Ust  goes  from  top  to  bottom,  until  he  reaches 

Her  fete  proper,  she  gartered  well  her  hose. 

He  lacks  the  saving  sense  of  humor  so  that  when  his  dragons  should 
be  terrible,  they  are  merely  ridiculous.^ 

I  sawe  the  dragon  .  .  . 
I  behelde  his  head  with  his  great  body. 
Which  was  mishaped  ful  right  wonderly; 
Of  gold  so  shene  was  both  his  head  and  face; 
Ful  lyke  a  mayden;  it  was  a  mervalyous  cace! 

His  necke  silver,  and  thicke  as  a  bull; 
His  brests  stele,  and  like  an  olyphant; 
His  forelegges  latyn,  and  of  f ethers  fidl; 
Ryght  lyke  a  grype  was  every  tallaunt; 
And  as  of  strength  he  nothing  did  want. 
His  backe  afore,  lyke  brystles  of  a  swyne. 
Of  the  fine  copper  did  moost  clerely  shyne.  ^ 

His  hinder  legges  was  like  to  a  catte. 

All  of  tjTine,  and  like  a  scorpion; 

He  had  a  tayle  wyth  a  head  thereat. 

All  of  leade,  of  plyaunt  facion; 

His  herte  stele,  without  menission. 

Toward  me  he  came,  roring  like  the  thonder, 

Spyttyng  out  fyre,  for  to  se  greate  wonder. 

»  P.  oj  P^  Cap.  XXX.  »  P.  of  P.,  Cap.  xxxvfl. 


86  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Now  this  is  bad  art!    Surely  with 

The  marveUous  Dragon  so  greatly  stinking  * 

bearing  down  upon  him,  the  knight  would  have  neither  time  nor 
incUnation  to  observe  all  these  details.  Nor  is  the  date  of  composi- 
tion any  excuse,  because  Chaucer,  writing  a  century  eariier,  could 
have  taught  him  to  omit  the  non-essential.  The  reason  why  he 
fails  to  make  his  creations  vital,  is  primarily  because  they  were 
not  vital  to  him.  For  example,  he  does  not  see  a  real  knight  fight- 
ing a  real  dragon,  but  the  scene  as  worked  in  tapestry.  This  is 
curiously  obvious  from  the  fact  that  from  the  heads  of  the  dragon 
curl  stanza-long  statements  in  Greek  lettering.  Standing  at  ease 
before  the  imaginary  tapestry,  the  author  deciphers  the  inscription 
for  the  benefit  of  the  reader.  But  as  the  effect  is  that  of  a  descrip- 
tion of  a  picture,  compared  with  the  vividness  of  Bunyan,  these 
figures  are  still  and  lifeless. 

The  third  poem.  The  Comfort  of  Lovers,  to  be  bracketed  with 
the  two  just  discussed,  is  yet  chronologically  the  last  of  the  series, 
since  the  title  teUs  us  it  was  "made  and  compyled".  .  .  "in  the 
seconde  yere  of  the  reygne  of  our  most  naturall  souerayne  lorde 
kynge  Henry  the  eight."  Perhaps,  since  this  unique  copy  is 
practically  inaccessible,  it  will  be  better  to  give  an  abstract  of  the 
poem.  It  opens  with  an  introduction  of  four  stanzas  in  the  rime- 
royal,  stating  Hawes'  famihar  positions,  that  poets  cloak  truth 
"under  cloudy  figures,"  that  he  himself  is  *'lytell  or  nought  experte 
in  this  scyence,"  doing  it  merely  "to  devoyde  ydlenes;"  and 
ending  with  the  eulogy  on  Gower,  Chaucer,  and  Lydgate,  the 
stress  being  laid  upon  the  last.  In  the  poem  proper  the  poet  is 
walking  in  a  fair  meadow,  meditating  upon  the  ways  of  Providence, 
when  he  falls  asleep.  In  his  dream  he  seems  to  be  in  the  garden 
of  a  Tudor  palace.  There  he  is  met  by  a  lady  of  goodly  age  who 
greets  him  in  a  stanza  characteristic  of  the  author  at  his  worst. 

To  me  she  sayd  /  me  thynke  ye  are  not  well 

Ye  haue  caught  colde  /  and  do  lyue  in  care 

Tell  me  your  mynde  /  now  shortly  euerydele 

To  layne  the  trouthe  /  I  charge  you  to  beware  .  .  . 

^  The  Example,  stanza  222. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  87 

Moved  by  this  poetic  appeal,  the  hero  confesses  that  divers  years 
ago  he  had  secretly  loved  a  beautiful  lady. 

I  durst  not  speke  unto  her  of  my  loue 

Yet  under  cx)Ioure  I  dyuers  bokes  dyde  make 

Notwithstanding  (or  on  account  of?)  this,  misfortune  had  come 
upon  him. 

Thretened  with  sorowe.  of  many  paynea  grete 

Thre  yeres  ago  my  ryght  hande  I  dyde  bynde 

Fro  my  browes  for  fere  /  the  dropes  doune  dyde  sweet 

God  knoweth  all  it  was  nothynge  my  mynde 

Unto  no  persone  /  I  durst  my  her  to  untwynde 

Yet  the  trouthe  knowynge  /  the  good  gretest  P 

May  me  releace  /  of  all  my  /  p  /  p  /  p  /  thre 

After  this  cryptic  complaint,  the  lady  comforts  him  with  common- 
place proverbs.    But  to  these  he  rejoins 

Alas  madame  /  unto  her  then  sayd  I 
Aboue  XX.  woulues  /  dyde  me  touse  and  rent 
Not  longe  agone  /  delynge  moost  shamefully 
That  by  theyr  tuggunge  /  my  lyfe  here  was  spent 
I  dyde  perceyue  /  somewhat  of  theyr  entente 
As  the  trouthe  is  knowen  /  unto  god  aboue 
My  ladyes  fader  they  dyde  lytell  loue. 

Apparently  to  escape  these  discomforts,  he  dispraised  where  he 
loved  best,  and  turned  his  thoughts  toward  Grod.    But  he  complains 

Som  a  had  wened  for  to  haue  made  an  ende 
Of  my  bokes  /  before  he  hadde  begynnynge 
But  all  vayne  they  dyde  so  comprehende 
Whan  they  of  them  lacke  understandynge 
Vaynfull  was  &  is  theyr  myssecontryuynge 
Who  lyst  the  trouthe  of  them  for  to  ensue 
For  the  reed  and  whyte  they  wryte  full  true 

Assuring  him  of  her  appreciation  that  his  books  have  been  written 
for  the  high  pleasure  of  the  red  and  white,  she  conducts  him  to  a 
resplendent  tower.  Upon  the  walls  within  are  three  magic  crystals, 
each  with  its  appropriate  emblem.    In  the  first  he  sees  his  past; 


88  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

in  the  second  he  sees  the  plots  of  his  enemies,  and  he  takes  the. 
emblem,  the  flower  of  virtue;  in  the  third  the  Holy  Ghost  appears 
as  a  dove,  and  he  takes  the  emblem,  the  sword  of  prudence  and  the 
shield  of  perception.  On  again  regarding  the  third  crystal,  it  now 
shows  the  heavens  with  an  effulgent  star,  which  he  interprets  to 
mean  that  he  will  be  successful  in  his  quest.  In  any  event  he  is 
so,  as  shortly  after  his  lady  appears,  with  Damg  Diligence  bearing 
her  train.  Then  follows  a  dialogue  of  twenty-five  stanzas,  in  which 
Pucel  at  last  refers  the  case  to  Venus  and  Fortune.  The  poem 
ends  with  an  apology  addressed  to  ladies. 

This  abstract  has  been  purposely  made  full  in  order  that  the 
modem  reader  may  have  the  pleasure,  intended  by  Hawes  for  his 
contemporaries,  of  guessing  the  interpretation.  And  the  modern 
reader,  I  think,  will  feel  that  Hawes  underestimates  his  power  of 
using  "couert  termes"  and  "cloudy  figures."  Herein  lies  its  chief 
significance.  In  this,  his  last  poem,  he  has  rejected  the  appeals 
to  the  interest  of  his  reader  by  introducing  either  moraUty  or 
adventure,  nor  does  he,  as  in  the  other  two  poems,  vouchsafe  any 
explanation.  With  any  such  meretricious  weakness  rejected,  it 
is  thus  an  example  of  this  theory  of  art  carried  to  its  reductio  ad 
absurdum.  As  such  it  was  never  reprinted.  The  age  had  lost  its 
interest  in  these  forms  of  intellectual  ingenuity,  which  became 
degraded  into  charades  and  conundrums.  Yet  by  the  poet  himself 
it  was  probably  regarded  as  his  masterpiece.  At  least,  it  is  the 
most  personal  of  his  poems.  And  it  forms  a  curious  nexus  between 
the  other  two.  The  heroine,  Pucel,  is  taken  from  The  Pastime; 
her  father,  who  is  unmentioned  in  The  Pastime,  is  taken  from  The 
Example.  Thus  in  a  certain  sense  The  Comfort  of  Lovers  may  be 
regarded  as  the  completion  and  final  summation  of  the  art  of 
Hawes. 

The  remaining  two  poems  may  be  passed  almost  without  com- 
ment. The  Corvuercyon  of  Swerers  reached  the  dignity  of  a  third 
edition  probably  before  fifty  years  had  passed.  Its  appeal  must 
have  been  based  on  the  unimpeachable  nature  of  its  sentiments, 
since  it  consists  advowedly  in  quotations  from  the  early  fathers 
against  swearing,  indefinitely  diluted.  And  A  Joyfvll  medytaq/on 
to  all  Englonde  of  the  coronacyon  of  our  moost  naturall  souerayne 
lorde  kynge  Henry  the  eyght  is  chiefly  interesting  from  the  complete 
reversal  of  one  of  his  prophecies. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  89 

Holy  chirche  reioyse  /  with  all  your  lybertees 
Withouten  domage  /  the  kynge  wyll  ye  enca*eace 
And  be  your  shelde  from  all  adversytees 
No  wrong  shall  be  but  he  wyll  it  soone  seace 
Knyttynge  the  knotte  of  fayth  loue  and  peace 
Bytwene  you  and  hym  without  dysturbaunce 
So  for  to  endure  by  longe  contynuance. 

Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  that  Hawes  did  not  live  long  enough  to 
see  what  were  the  relations  between  Henry  and  the  Church. 

These  two  poems  are  interesting  for  another  reason,  from  the 
fact,  namely,  that  being  published  in  facsimile  they  are  the  only 
ones  which  give  the  American  reader  any  appreciation  of  the  ac- 
tual condition  of  the  text.  Professor  Arber  has  ruthlessly  modern- 
ized The  Example,  and  Wright's  edition  of  The  Pastime,  reprinted 
from  one  of  the  latest  editions  of  the  sixteenth  century,  seems 
hopelessly  inaccurate.  The  fact  that  he  considers  it  as  one  of  the 
"monuments  of  the  bad  taste  of  a  bad  age,"  is  no  justification 
for  beginning  a  chapter  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence.^  Thus  one  is 
never  sure  whether  the  blunder  is  that  of  the  printer  or  of  the 
poet.^  Occasionally  there  is  a  lilt  to  the  stanza  faintly  suggestive 
of  Spenser,  and  usually  the  lines  may  be  made  to  scan  by  an  agile 
reader.  Of  course,  being  an  admirer  of  Lydgate,  he  employs 
frequently  the  broken-backed  line.  And  one  must  be  prepared 
to  call  in  the  assistance  of  the  final  e.  A  very  favorable  example 
of  his  verse  is  given  by  the  following  stanza.' 

O  mortall  f oike !  you  may  beholde  and  see 

Howe  I  lye  here,  sometime  a  myghty  knyght; 

The  end  of  joye  and  all  prosperite 

Is  deth  at  last,  through  his  course  and  myght; 

After  the  day  there  cometh  the  derke  night; 

For  though  the  day  be  never  so  longe. 

At  last  the  belles  ringeth  to  evensonge. 

The  last  two  lines  include  all  that  Hawes  ever  directly  contributed 
to  English  literature,  and  even  here  the  expression  may  not  be 

^  The  P.  of  P.,  Caps,  xxxiii,  xxxiv.    Southey  here  gives  the  same  reading. 

'  Burkart  gives  a  number  of  illustrations.  Such  conditions  are  necessarily  unfair 
to  the  author.  Sympathetic  criticism  and  a  complete  understanding  must  be 
deferred  until  the  appearance  of  Professor  Potter's  edition. 

»TheP.o/P.,Cap.xliL 


90  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

his  as  it  figures  in  Heywood's  Proverbs.  On  the  other  hand,  that 
Hawes  was  interested  in  the  technical  side  of  his  art  is  shown  by 
the  curious  verse  experiment  in  the  Conuercyon. 

Ye  (kynde 

Be 

Agayne 
My  payne  (in  mynde 

Reteyne 

My  swete  bloode 
On  the  roode  (my  broder 

Dyde  the  good 

My  face  ryght  red 
Myn  armes  spred  (thynke  none  oder 

My  woundes  bled 

Beholde  thou  my  syde 
Wounded  so  ryght  wyde  (all  for  thyn  owne  sake 
Bledynge  sore  that  tyde 

Thus  for  the  I  smerted 

Why  arte  thou  harde  hert«d  (I  thy  swerynge  as  lake 

Be  by  me  conuerted 

Tere  me  nowe  no  more 
My  woimdes  are  sore  (and  come  to  my  grace 
Leue  swerynge  therefore 

I  am  redy 
To  graunte  mercy  (for  thy  trespace 
To  the  truely 

Come  nowe  nere 
My  frende  dere  (before  me 
And  appere 

I  so 
In  wo  se  se 

Dyde  go 

I 
Ciye  (tbe 

Hy 

This  attempt  at  so  artificial  a  form  makes  one  question  whether 
in  some  of  his  impossible  lines  we  have  the  poet's  own  text.^ 

In  spite  of  all  that  can  be  said  in  the  way  of  unfavorable  criticism 
the  fact  yet  remains  that  his  greatest  work  went  through  five 
editions  before  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.    Although  the  explanation 

^  The  peculiarity  of  Hawes  diction  is  discussed  in  Chapter  3. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  91 

may  be,  as  has  been  unkindly  suggested,  that  the  age  had  few 
books,  the  probable  reason  is  that,  owing  to  the  very  composite 
nature  of  the  book,  it  appealed  to  a  wide  reading  public.  The 
long  moral  disquisitions  attracted  some;  others  found  humor  in 
the  coarsely  reaUstic  episode  of  Godfrey  Gobilive;  and  still  others 
enjoyed  the  romantic  adventures.  To  the  Uterary  historian  Hawes' 
chief  significance  lies  in  the  fact  that  to  the  allegory  he  joined  the 
romance.  The  age  of  Henry  VII  seemed  prosaic;  the  good  old 
times  had  passed,  the  knights  and  paladins  had  become  extinct, 
and,  as  Hawes  himself  says,  the  flower  of  Chivalry  had  been  long 
decayed.^  But  (especially  under  Henry  VIII),  the  forms  and 
ceremonies  were  all  the  more  valued.  Thus,  while  Henry  and 
Francis  were  mutually  trying  to  out-lie  and  out-trick  each  other, 
their  professions  were  worthy  of  a  Roland  and  of  an  Oliver.  Jousts 
and  tourneys  and  gilded  armor  were  the  fashion.  It  was  Hawes' 
good  fortune,  rather  than  his  literary  instinct,  that  led  him  to 
unite  the  Prioresse  and  Sir  Thopas.  Both  types  of  poems  had 
existed  separately;  it  was  the  union  that  was  the  novelty.  If 
Hawes  wrote  the  didactic  element  to  please  himself,  the  romantic 
part  was  presumably  introduced  to  please  Henry  VII.  His  Welsh 
blood  and  predisposition  toward  French  Uterature  would  account 
for  the  presence  of  the  marvels  and  the  combats.  Jack  the  Giant 
Killer  is  a  Welsh  hero.  Yet  Hawes  himself  is  not  in  sympathy 
with  the  static  ideal  of  medieval  Christianity.  When  his  hero 
is  ofiFered  the  choice  between  a  life  of  contemplation  and  one  of 
activity,  and  of  worldly  dignity,  it  is  the  latter  that  is  chosen,  for 
Hawes  is  on  the  threshold  of  the  Renaissance. 

With  modem  critics  the  temptation  is  to  consider  Hawes,  not  in 
regard  to  what  he  is,  but  in  regard  to  what  the  type  will  produce. 
Thus  the  phrase, "  the  Spenser  before  Spenser  "  continually  appears. 
The  point  to  remember  is  that,  if  this  be  true,  it  is  also  that  he  is 
Spenser  with  Spenser  left  out.^  There  has  been  a  tendency  to 
exalt  him,  to  read  into  him  beauties,  and  to  excuse  deficiencies. 
Mrs.  Browning,  who  is  enthusiastic,  regards  The  Pastime  of 
Pleasure y  together  with  Piers  Ploughman,  the  House  of  Fame, 
and  the  Temple  ofGlas,  as  the  "four  columnar  marbles.  .  .  on  whose 
foundation  is  exalted  into  light  the  great  allegorical  poem  of  the 

»  The  P.  of  P.,  Cap.  xxvi. 

'  His  effect  upon  Spenser  is  reserved  for  a  later  study. 


92  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

world,  Spenser's  Faerie  Queene.**  ^  As  Schick  points  out,  the  pedi' 
gree  is  more  probably  Martianus  Capella — Anticlavdianiis — Court 
of  Sapience — Pastime  of  Pleasure — Faerie  Queene.  At  least  this 
gives  the  significance  to  Hawes'  work.  He  is  known,  if  known  at 
all,  for  the  better  work  of  other  men.  And  yet  it  was  his  fortune 
to  combine  the  two  strongly  marked  medieval  tendencies  into  one 
single  form.  Without  a  tithe  of  the  poetic  faculty  of  the  author 
of  the  Court  of  LovCy  in  literary  history  he  is  much  more  important. 
He  is  the  gateway  between  medievalism  and  the  Renaissance. 

Up  to  this  point  in  the  discussion,  there  has  been  one  character- 
istic common  to  all  work,  namely  the  lack  of  definite  expression 
of  the  personality  of  the  author.  In  spite  of  the  Comfort  of  Lovers^ 
Hawes  remains  a  visionary  figure.  This  condition  is  almost  neces- 
sitated from  the  fact  that  each  author  wrote  according  to  lines  laid 
down  by  tradition.  But  such  a  state  belongs  rather  to  the  Middle 
Ages  than  to  the  Renaissance.  Then,  if  anything  at  all  was 
stressed,  it  was  individuality.  What  seems  to  the  modem  reader 
to  be  arrant  boasting,  to  the  man  of  that  time  appeared  only  the 
proper  recognition  of  his  own  ego.  In  literature  the  time  was  at 
hand  when  a  writer  would  employ  the  old  formulae,  but  employ 
them  as  a  medium  for  self-expression. 

Practically  such  a  condition  is  to  be  found  in  a  poem  of  John 
Skelton.  Of  his  life,  beyond  what  may  be  legitimately,  or  il- 
legitimately, deduced  from  his  works,  we  know  curiously  little. 
Since  the  name  Skelton,  Schelton,  Shelton,  or  Scheklton,  is  quite 
common,  at  once  appears  a  prolific  source  of  misinformation.  In 
particular  a  contemporary  John  Skelton,  afterwards  knighted, 
adds  to  the  confusion.  Thus  his  life,  a  fascinating  structure  of  in- 
ference and  conjecture,  is  built  around  only  a  few  definite  dates.^ 
We  know  neither  when  nor  where  he  was  born,  nor  who  were  his 
parents,  nor  where  he  received  his  education.^    The  first  notice 

1  Book  of  the  Poets,  12S. 

*  The  Life  prefixed  to  the  Dyce  edition  of  1843  is  still  in  great  measure  the  source 
of  all  subsequent  statements.  This  may  be  corrected  by  the  masterly  study  of 
Friedrich  Brie,  Skelton-atudien,  Engliache  Studien,  37  abnd,  1-86.  As  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  differ  from  certain  positions  taken  by  Dr.  Brie,  I  wish  here  to  express 
my  hearty  admiration  for  the  skill  with  which  he  has  brought  order  out  of  chaos. 

'  One  Scheklton,  according  to  Cole's  Collections,  as  quoted  by  Dyce,  received 
the  M.  A.  at  Cambridge  in  1484.  That  this  is  the  poet  is  questioned  in  Vol.  Ill  of 
the  Athena  Cantabrigienns. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  98 

shows  him  ah-eady  with  an  established  reputation.  In  1490  Cax- 
ton  in  his  preface  to  the  Eneydos,  after  explaining  his  diflBculties 
with   the   English   language,    unexpectedly   addresses    Skelton.^ 

But  I  praye  mayster  lohn  Skelton,  late  created  poete  laureate  in  the  vnyuersite 
of  oxenforde,  to  ouersee  and  correcte  this  sayd  booke.  And  taddresse  and  expowne 
where  as  shalle  be  founde  faulte  to  theym  that  shall  requyre  it.  For  hym,  I  knowe 
for  suffycyent  to  expowne  and  englysshe  euery  dyffyculte  that  is  therin  /  For  he 
hath  late  translated  the  epystlys  of  Tulle  /  and  the  boke  of  dyodorus  syculus,  and 
diuerse  other  werkes  oute  of  latyn  in-to  englysshe,  not  in  rude  and  olde  langage, 
but  in  polysshed  and  ornate  termes  craftely,  as  he  that  hath  redde  vyrgyle  /  ouyde, 
tullye,  and  all  the  other  noble  poetes  and  oratours  /  to  me  vnknowen:  And  also  he 
hath  redde  the  ix.  muses,  and  vnderstande  theyr  musicalle  scyences,  and  to  whom 
of  theym  eche  scyence  is  appropred.    I  suppose  he  hath  dronken  of  Elycons  well. 

This  casual  remark  of  Caxton  gives  the  two  influences  that  affect 
Skelton's  work,  namely  his  Latinity  and  his  desire  for  expression 
in  English.  For  his  Latin  we  have  also  other  evidence.  The  first 
Grace  Book  of  the  University  of  Cambridge  gives  the  entry  in 
1493,^  Conceditur  Johanni  Skelton  poete  in  partibus  transmarinis 
atque  oxonie  laurea  omato  ut  aput  nos  eadem  decoraretur."  Ac- 
cording to  this  entry,  then,  he  had  been  honored  with  the  academic 
degree  of  poet  laureate,  by  Oxford,  Cambridge,  and  a  foreign  uni- 
versity, probably  Louvain.^  Warton,  followed  by  all  subsequent 
writers,  adds  another  entry^,  1504-5.^  "Conceditur  Johi  Skelton 
Poete  Laureat,  quod  possit  stare  eodem  gradu  hie  quo  stetit  Oxon- 
iis,  et  quod  possit  uti  habitu  sibi  concesso  a  Principe."  ^  What  the 
"same  degree  here  that  he  held  at  Oxford"  was  I  do  not  know.^ 
The  assumption  that  it  was  again  the  degree  of  poet  laureate  seems 
improbable  since  that  had  already  been  given  him  at  each  uni- 

» E.  E.  T.  S.,  Caxton's  Eneydoa,  p.  3. 

•  Athena  CaniabrigiensU,  Vol.  III. 

•  Given  by  title  of  verses  of  Whittington,  Dyce  1,  XVI. 

•  Eistory  English  Poetry,  1873,  iii,  127,  note. 

•  This  was  verified  for  Dyce,  i,  xiii,  note.  On  the  other  hand  no  such  entry  is 
given  in  the  Athens  Cant,  nor  is  there  any  mention  of  it  by  Mullinger. 

•  For  Dyce  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bliss  searched  the  archives  at  Oxford  with  no  result. 
"No  records  remain  between  1463  and  1498  that  will  give  a  correct  list  of  degrees." 
After  1500  Wood  gives  no  notice  of  such  a  degree  conferred  upon  Skelton.  The 
habit  is  presumably  the  one  alluded  to.  Dyce,  Vol.  I,  124  and  197.  Amo  ThUm- 
mcl,  Studien  liber  John  Skelton  (Leipzig,  1905),  pp.  48-50,  appreciates  the  difficulty 
but  offers  no  solution. 


94  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

versity.  It  may  have  been  the  D.  D.  as  Bale  suggests.  However 
that  may  be,  it  is  the  poet  laureateship  in  which  Skelton  delights. 
In  his  curious  (and  unpleasant)  series  of  mocking  attacks  upon 
Gamesche  he  plumes  himself  upon  this  particular  degree.^ 

Lytyll  wyt  in  your  scrybys  nolle 
That  scrybblyd  your  fonde  scrolle, 
Vpon  hym  for  to  take, 
Agennst  me  for  to  make 
Lyke  a  doctor  dawpate, 
A  lauryate  poyete  for  to  rate. 
.  Yower  termys  ar  to  grose. 
To  far  from  the  porpoes. 
To  contaminate 
And  to  violate 
The  dygnyte  lauryate.* 

And  again: 

What  eylythe  th6,  rebawde,  on  me  to  mae? 

A  kyng  to  me  myn  habyte  gaue: 

At  Oxforth,  the  vniversyte, 

Auaunsid  I  was  to  that  degre; 

By  hole  consent  of  theyr  senate* 

I  was  made  poete  lawreate. 

To  cal  me  lorell  ye  ar  to  lewde: 

Lythe  and  lystyn,  all  bechrewdel 

Of  the  Musys  nyne.  Calliope 

Hath  pointyd  me  to  rayle  on  th6. 

It  semyth  nat  thy  pylld  pate 

Agenst  a  poyet  lawreat 

To  take  vpon  th6  for  to  scryue  .  .  . 

It  ys  for  no  bawdy  knaue 

The  dignite  lawreat  for  to  haue.* 

In  the  postils  to  two  poems  Skelton  is  signed  as  "Orator  regius," 
whatever  that  may  mean.  But  that  he  had  no  definite  connection 
with  the  court  as  our  modern  term  implies  is  proved  by  the  fact 
that  his  name  does  not  figure  on  the  rolls.  It  was  an  academic 
degree  conferred  for  proficiency  in  the  composition  of  Latin  verse. 
The  fact  that  he  was  so  honored  in  three  universities,  even  with- 

*  Of  course  this  has  no  connection  with  the  modem  office  of  poet  laureate. 
»  Dyce,  i,  122.  »  Dyce,  i,  128-129. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  95 

out  considering  the  mysterious  second  degree,  shows  that  accord- 
ing to  the  educational  standards  of  the  time  he  was  regarded  as  a 
man  of  great  scholarly  attainments. 

Given  a  man  with  such  scholastic  antecedents,  it  was  almost  inevi- 
table that  he  should  experiment  with  a  type  of  poem  authorized  by 
literary  tradition;  given  a  man  with  the  renaissance  craving  for  in- 
dividuaUstic  expression,  and  it  was  inevitable  that  the  conventional 
form  would  be  modified,  even  unconsciously,  by  his  treatment. 
On  the  one  side  there  will  be  careful  adherence  to  the  peculiarities 
of  the  form;  on  the  other  a  complete  breaking  away  from  the  typi- 
cal mental  attitude.  So,  whereas  Hawes  in  his  combination  of  the 
chivalric  and  erotic  elements  was  a  conscious  innovator,  mechani- 
cally creating  a  new  typ>e  by  a  recombination  of  old  forms,  here 
there  will  be  an  unconscious  adaptation  of  the  old  tradition  to  form 
a  medium  of  expression  for  the  new  age.  Such  is  the  peculiarity 
of  Skelton's  poem.  The  Bowge  of  Court.  The  poem  is  divided  into 
the  three  conventional  sections,  the  introduction,  the  poem  proper, 
and  the  apologetic  conclusion.  In  the  first  five  stanzas,  with  the 
typical  astronomical  opening,  the  poet  in  the  first  person  tells  us 
that  he  wishes  to  write, 

.  .  .  callynge  to  mynde  the  greate  auctoryte 
Of  poetes  olde,  whyche  full  craftely. 

Under  as  couerte  termes  as  coude  be. 

Can  touche  a  trouth  and  cloke  it  subtylly 
Wyth  fresshe  vtteraunce  full  sentencyously. 

With  becoming  hesitation,  however,  he  feels  a  lack  of  confidence  in 
his  ability  to  be  suflBciently  obscure.  In  this  mood  of  doubt  he 
fails  asleep,  and  in  his  dream 

At  Harwyche  Porte  slumbrynge  as  I  laye. 
In  myne  hostes  house,  called  Powers  Keye, 

he  sees  a  ship  well  freighted,  called  the  Bowge  of  Courte.  The  aim 
of  the  voyagers  is  to  obtain  the  jewel  Javor  of  the  owner,  dame 
Sauncepere.  Shielded  by  silk  she  sits  upon  a  throne  over  which  is 
the  motto  Carder  le  fortune,  que  est  mauelz  et  bone.  Her  chief  gentle- 
woman. Danger,  repulses  him,  but  another.  Desire,  urges  him  on, 
and  advises  him  to  make  friends  with  fortune,  who  controls  the 
ship. 


96  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Whome  she  loueth,  of  all  plesyre  is  ryche, 

Whyles  she  laugheth  and  hath  luste  for  to  playe; 

Whome  she  hateth,  she  casteth  m  the  dyche. 
For  whan  she  frouneth,  she  thynketh  to  make  a  fray; 
She  cheryssheth  him,  and  hym  she  casseth  awaye. 

With  the  rest,  the  poet,  whose  name  is  Drede,  makes  his  suit  to 
Fortune.  Here  the  prologue  ends.  The  poem  proper  is  an  account 
of  the  voyage.  On  board  there  are  seven  "full  subtyll"  characters, 
Fa  veil  (Duplicity),  Suspecte  (Suspicion),  Harvy  Hafter  (a  cheat), 
Dysdayne,  Ryotte,  Dyssymuler,  and  Subtylte.  Each  in  turn  is 
characterized,  and  has  an  interview  with  Drede.  There  is  some 
dramatic  action  suggested.  After  the  last,  fearing  for  his  life,  he 
leaps  overboard,  and  awakes.  The  "lytyll  boke"  ends  with  an 
apology, ...  it  is  only  a  dream,  but  sometimes  in  dreams  truths 
appear. 

Such  is  in  bare  outline  the  plan  of  the  poem.  At  once  merely 
by  the  outline  it  is  apparent  that  we  have  here  a  composition  of 
the  type  of  the  medieval  tradition.  It  has  all  the  earmarks,  the 
dream  structure,  the  allegory,  the  personifications  and  the  rime- 
royal.  Still  more,  it  has  the  pecuUarities  of  the  Lydgate  school. 
The  formal  astronomical  opening,  the  belief  in  the  necessity  of 
"couert  termes,"  the  suggestion  of  the  apostrophe  to  the  "lytyll 
boke"  at  the  end,  and  the  inevitable  apology.  You  even  find  an 
occasional  broken-backed  Lydgatian  line. 

That  i  ne  wiste  wh4t  to  d6  was  b6ste 

Up  to  this  point  it  is  a  perfect  example  of  the  school  so  worthily 
represented  by  Hawes. 

The  interesting  feature  about  the  poem  is,  not  its  similarity  to 
the  type,  but  its  unconscious  divergence  from  it.  Skelton's  per- 
sonality is  too  powerful  to  be  confined  in  any  common  mould. 
Seeing  life  with  his  own  eyes,  and  not  through  Hterary  tradi- 
tion, he  becomes  concrete.  The  vague  medieval  meadow  is  a 
definite  place,  Harwich  Port,  and  a  definite  inn.  Powers'  Quai. 
This  becomes  strongly  marked  when  he  deals  with  the  personi- 
fications. Instead  of  Hawes '  pictured  figures,  here  the  characters 
are  strongly  individualized.  The  description  of  Harvy  Hafter 
may  serve  as  an  example: 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  97 

Vpon  his  breste  he  bare  a  versynge  boxe;  (dicing) 
His  throte  was  clere,  and  lustely  coude  fayne; 

Me  thoughte,  his  gowne  was  all  furred  wyth  foxe; 
And  euer  he  sange,  Sythe  I  am  no  thyng  playne. 

To  kepe  him  frome  pykynge  it  was  a  grete  payne; 

He  gased  on  me  with  his  gotyshe  berde; 

Whan  I  loked  on  hym,  my  purse  was  half  aferde. 

The  last  line  is  a  triumph  of  suggestiveness.  And  the  same 
brilliant  characterization  is  shown  in  the  speeches.  For  the  sake 
of  continuity  Harvy  is  again  chosen  for  illustration: 

Syr,  God  you  saue!  why  loke  ye  so  sadde? 

What  thynge  is  that  I  maye  do  for  you? 
A  wonder  thynge  that  ye  waxe  not  madde! 

For,  and  I  studye  sholde  as  ye  doo  nowe. 

My  wytte  wolde  waste,  I  make  God  auowe. 
Tell  me  your  mynde:  me  thynke,  ye  make  a  verse; 
I  coude  it  skan,  and  ye  wolde  it  reherse. 

But  to  the  poynte  shortely  to  precede. 
Where  hathe  your  dwellynge  ben,  er  ye  cam  here? 

For,  as  I  trowe,  I  haue  sene  you  indede 

Er  this,  whan  that  ye  made  me  royall  chere. 
Holde  vp  the  helme,  loke  vp,  and  lete  God  stere: 

I  wolde  be  mery,  what  wynde  that  euer  blowe, 

"Heue  and  how  rombelow,  row  the  bote,  Norman  rowel" 

"Prynces  of  yougthe"  can  ye  synge  by  rote? 

Or  shall  I  sayle  wyth  you  a  felashyp  assaye; 
For  on  the  booke  I  can  not  synge  a  note. 

Wolde  to  God,  it  wolde  please  you  some  daye 

A  balade  boke  before  me  for  to  laye. 
And  leme  me  to  synge.  Re,  my,  fa,  sol ! 
And,  whan  I  fayle,  bobbe  me  on  the  noil. 

Loo,  what  is  to  you  a  pleasure  grete. 
To  haue  that  connyng  and  wayes  that  ye  haael 

By  Goddis  soule,  I  wonder  how  ye  gete 
Soo  grete  pleasyre,  or  who  to  you  it  gaue: 
Syr,  pardon  me,  I  am  an  homely  knaue. 

To  be  with  you  thus  perte  and  thus  boldc; 

But  ye  be  welcome  to  our  housholde. 

And,  I  dare  saye,  there  is  no  man  here  inne 
But  wolde  be  glad  of  your  company: 


98  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

I  wyste  neuer  man  that  so  soone  coude  wjnme 
The  fauoure  that  ye  haue  with  my  lady; 
I  praye  to  God  that  it  maye  neuer  dy: 

It  is  your  fortune  for  to  haue  that  grace; 

As  I  be  saued,  it  is  a  wonder  case. 

For,  as  for  me,  I  serued  here  many  a  daye. 
And  yet  vnneth  I  can  haue  my  lyuynge; 

But  I  requyre  you  no  worde  that  I  saye; 
For,  and  I  knowe  ony  erthly  thynge 
That  is  agayne  you,  ye  shall  haue  wetynge: 

And  ye  be  welcome,  syr,  so  God  me  saue: 

I  hope  here  after  a  frende  of  you  to  haue. 

Here  we  are  miles  away  from  the  stock  epithet  of  the  Lydgate 
school.  Harvy  is  musical,  and  sings  "Row  the  boat,  Norman, 
row"  *  and  "Princes  of  youth."  But  unhappily  he  sings  by  ear 
only.  He  is  a  homely  knave  and  seeks  to  flatter  by  stressing  the 
superior  attainments  of  Drede.  Yet  he  is  completely  insincere, 
and  at  another's  suggestion  is  quite  wilUng  to  throw  Drede  over 
board  in  a  picked  quarrel.    The  line, 

Holde  up  the  h6lme,  loke  up,  and  lete  God  stere, 

is  rather  shocking  coming  from  the  mouth  of  such  a  character.  Yet 
is  it  not  natural  for  this  type  of  rascal  to  throw  thus  the  responsibil- 
ity upon  God?  Harvy  Hafter's  easy-going  philosophy  is  here  sug- 
gestive, and  it  is  worth  comment  that  Skelton  recognized  that  such 
a  shifting  of  responsibility  denotes  weakness  of  character  rather 
than  strength.  Thus  each  trait  is  carefully  etched  in.  The  result 
is  that  for  the  first  time  since  Chaucer  vivid  characterization  is 
placed  in  a  framework  of  definitely  conceived  dramatic  action. 

With  such  treatment  as  this,  naturally  there  is  no  ambiguity  in 
the  interpretation  of  the  allegory.  Bouge,  from  the  French  bouche, 
is  merely  the  technical  term  for  the  table  set  by  the  king  for  the 
court.  ^  As  such  it  had  been  used  half  a  century  before  Skelton. 
Here  it  is  used  to  typify  life  at  the  Court.  The  conditions  there 
were  so  unlike  the  present  that  it  requires  an  effort  of  the  imagina- 

^  This  is  an  actual  song,  the  music  of  which  is  preserved  in  Chappell's  Popular 
Mufic  of  the  Olden  Time,  II.  482. 

*  The  reader  is  refered  to  Chapter  I  of  the  present  work. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  99 

tion  to  realize  them.  In  the  sixteenth  century  court  a  large  number 
of  individuals  were  brought  together  without  any  regard  to  congen- 
iality and  without  very  much  to  do.  The  duties  were  trivial.  Yet 
however  trivial  they  might  seem  abstractly,  concretely  upon  them 
depended  both  one's  reputation  and  one's  income.  The  main  object 
of  a  man's  Ufe  was  to  acquire  the  favor  of  the  monarch.  If  for  any 
reason  good  or  bad,  important  or  trivial,  noble  or  vile,  you  attracted 
the  favorable  notice  of  the  king,  you  were  successful.  Thus  all 
things  were  reduced  to  one  level;  whether  you  were  a  skillful 
statesman,  or  player  on  the  lute,  or  a  cunning  deviser  of  royal 
debauch,  it  was  immaterial.  On  the  other  hand,  failure  to  obtain 
this,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word,  spelled  ruin.  As  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk  said  to  More,  "by  God's  body!  Mr.  More,  indignatio 
principis  mors  est, "  and  More  proved  the  truth  of  the  statement 
on  Tower  Hill.  As  there  was  no  real  dignity  back  of  the  life,  and 
as  there  was  no  independence  of  thought,  Skelton  thinks  that  to 
gain  this  all-important  favor  of  the  King  is  only  a  matter  of  chance. 
And  equally,  he  that  possesses  it  is  both  flattered  and  hated  by  all 
the  rest.  The  Court  is  peopled  by  liars  and  cheats,  by  suspicion 
and  disdain.  Success  there  is  worse  than  failure  and  the  honest 
man  jumps  over  board! 

If  this  be  the  interpretation,  only  by  form  does  the  poem  belong 
to  the  type  represented  by  the  medieval  tradition.  If  on  that  side 
it  be  compared  to  Hawes,  its  content  recalls  Barclay  in  both  his 
Eclogues  and  in  his  Ship  of  Fools.  First  there  is  no  question  that 
there  was  some  relation  between  them.  Even  granting  that  Bale's 
mention  of  a  work  by  Barclay  Contra  Skeltonum  be  mythical,  that 
Barclay  did  not  approve  of  Skelton  is  shown  in  the  final  stanzas  ^ 
of  the  Ship  of  Fools.  There  he  plumes  himself  upon  his  virtuous 
writings,  priding  himself  that 

It  longeth  nat  to  my  scyence  nor  cunnynge 
For  Phylyp  the  Sparowe  the  (Dirige)  to  sing. 

To  assume,  however,  that  Skelton's  verses  good-humoredly 
advising  those  that  disliked  Philip  Sparrow  to  do  better  them- 
selves,'^ are  a  reply  to  Barclay,  is  to  assume  that  Barclay  was  the 
only  critic.    Likewise  to  construe  the  passage  in  the  Fourth  Eclogvs 

'  Jamiesoo.  op.  cit.,  ii,  3.S1.  *  Dyce,  1,  412. 


100  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

against  poet  laureates  as  an  attack  particularly  aimed  at  Skelton 
is  to  state  a  tempting  hypothesis.  Of  course  it  may  be  true,  but 
equally  of  course  it  may  seem  true  only  because  of  our  lack  of  data. 
It  is  fair,  however,  to  feel  that  the  traditional  enmity  between  the 
two  poets  must  have  had  some  foundation. 

But  if  there  be  any  truth  in  this  tradition  it  is  somewhat  sur- 
prising to  find  Skelton  enlisted  by  modem  scholarship  as  a  follower 
of  Barclay.^  This  is  almost  certainly  an  error,  due  to  the  inclusion 
among  Skelton's  work  of  the  Boke  of  Three  Fooles.  As  this  has 
been  shown  by  Brie  ^  to  be  merely  a  part  of  Watson's  translation 
of  the  Narrenschiffs,  all  connection  of  Skelton  with  Barclay's  Ship 
of  Fools  is  reduced  to  the  fact  that  they  each  use  the  allegory  of  a 
boat.  But  even  in  EngUsh  this  metaphor  is  not  uncommon.^  Nor 
is  the  employment  of  it  the  same.  In  Barclay  the  figure  of  the  boat 
is  a  mechanism  in  which  to  put  his  innumerable  fools;  in  Skelton 
the  boat  itself  represents  the  court.  If  it  be  necessary  to  find  an 
original  for  the  ship  of  state,  the  ode  of  Horace  comes  at  once  to 
mind.^  Thus,  while  it  may  be  possible  that  Locker's  version  of 
the  NarrenschiflFs  (1497)  suggested  the  idea,  Skelton's  employment 
of  it  is  much  more  artistic.  Much  the  same  may  be  said  of  the 
assumed  influence  of  Barclay's  Eclogues,  which  also  attack  court 
life.  Barclay's  criticisms  are  after  all  criticisms  of  superficial  de- 
tail; Skelton  sensed  the  fimdamental  wrong.  And  this  superiority 
of  Skelton  is  due,  in  the  last  analysis,  to  his  deeper  perception. 
Barclay  is  merely  an  adapter  of  other  men's  work,  a  humanist  by 
courtesy.  Skelton,  on  the  other  hand,  brought  from  his  wide 
reading  a  point  of  view  that  made  him  a  sharp  and  original  critic 
of  English  conditions. 

The  importance  of  this  argument  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  dating 
of  the  poem  is  based  on  internal  evidence.  If  it  shows  the  influence 
of  the  Ship  of  Fools  unless  Skelton  saw  the  manuscript  it  must 
have  been  written  after  1509;  if  it  shows  the  influence  of  the 

^  Herford,  Literary  Relatione,  pp.  354-355;  Rey,  Skelton's  Satirical  Poems,  p.  51; 
Koelbing,  Zur  Charakteristik  John  Skelton's,  p.  69;  in  the  Chapter  on  Barclay  and 
Skelton  in  the  Cambridge  Hist,  of  Lit.,  p.  83,  written  after  Brie's  Siudien  had  ap- 
peared, Koelbing  recedes  from  this  position,  substitutes  Brandt  for  Barclay,  and 
tends  to  date  the  poem  early. 

*  Brie,  op.  cit.,  p.  18. 

*  Koelbing  op.  cit.,  p.  76,  gives  a  long  list  ol  predecessors. 

*  The  Fourteenth  Ode  of  the  First  Book. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  101 

EdogueSy  it  must  have  been  composed  about  1514.^  But  as  it 
does  not  in  any  way  show  the  influence  of  these  works,  there  is 
no  necessity  for  so  late  a  date.  In  fact  the  cumbrous  form,  the 
careful  following  of  the  medieval  tradition,  point  rather  to  very 
early  work.  Brie  here  makes  a  suggestion,  entirely  without  any 
foundation,  but  fascinating  in  connection  with  my  interpretation 
of  the  poem.  We  know  that  Skelton  had  been  connected  with 
the  Court  as  tutor  to  Prince  Henry.  We  know  also  that  in  1498 
he  was  ordained  successively  subdeacon,  deacon,  and  priest.^  But 
in  1504  he  was  Rector  at  Diss  in  Norfolk.^ 

It  is  a  not  unnatural  assumption  that  he  received  the  rectorship 
of  Diss  as  a  regard  for  his  tutorial  services.  On  the  other  hand 
there  has  never  been  a  reason  assigned  why  a  man  sufficiently 
influential  to  be  chosen  as  tutor  to  his  Prince,  and  with  the 
reputation  of  one  of  the  leading  scholars  of  his  country,  should  be 
willing  to  bury  himself  in  an  obscure  country  town.  Norfolk  today 
is  but  ninety-five  miles  from  London,  but  ninety-five  miles  over 
sixteenth  century  roads  was  a  long  journey  fraught  with  dis- 
comfort and  danger."*  Skelton's  own  answer  perhaps  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Bowge  of  Court.  From  a  court  in  which  there  was 
not  to  be  found  one  good  man,  where  wretches  plotted  against 
him,  he  indignantly  sought  refuge  in  exile.  ^  This  is  mere  hypothe- 
sis, but  it  does  cover  all  the  few  facts  of  the  case.  This  hypothesis 
also  explains  the  acidity  of  the  poem.  The  allegory  of  the  Romaunt 
of  the  Rose  and  of  Lydgate  has  been  turned  into  satire! 

This  medieval  form,  clear  and  definite,  has  already  been  twice 
modified  by  the  literary  necessities  of  the  Renaissance;  by  Hawes, 
who  combines  with  it  a  didactic  chivalric  romance,  and  again  by 
Skelton,  who  forces  it  into  the  service  of  satire.    Still  another  at- 

^  See  Chapter  IV,  p.  167.  The  latest  date  with  the  curious  reason  is  given  by 
Rey,  op.  cU.  51:  "And  what  is  still  more  concluding  for  the  posteriority  of  the 
'Bowge  of  Court'  is  the  circumstance  that  it  was  even  written  after  the  'Garland' 
which  dates,  as  the  title-page  indicates,  from  1523;  as  the  'Bowge'  does  not  form 
part  of  the  list  of  Skelton's  works  in  the '  Garland,'  the  assumption  of  the  posteriority 
of  the  'Bowge  of  Court'  seems  quite  ascertained."  As  Dr.  Rey  states  that  he  has 
used  the  three  volume  American  reprint  of  the  Dyce,  I  refer  him  to  Vol.  2,  p.  222  of 
that  edition  where  in  the  Oarland  of  Laurel  he  will  find  the  line,  "Item  Bowche  of 
Court  where  Drede  was  begyled"  .  •  . 

«  Dyce.  1,  XX.  «  Ante,  pp.  48-49. 

»  Dyce,  1,  XXVI .  »  Brie,  op.  eit.,  p.  41. 


1(«  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

tempt  to  use  the  old  formula  was  made  just  after  the  middle  of  the 
sixteenth  century  by  John  Heywood. 

John  Heywood  (1497P-1560?)  has  at  least  left  behind  him  the 
tradition  of  a  fairly  definite  personality,  probably  due,  however, 
to  the  fact  that  he  lived  well  into  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  His  work 
belongs  to  the  earlier  period,  because  he  remained  faithful  to 
his  reUgion,  even  to  the  extent  of  becoming  an  exile.  That 
he  was  possessed  of  tact  is  shown  by  his  continued  existence 
without  changing  his  reUgious  beliefs,  although  he  was  forced  once 
to  a  public  recantation.  His  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  Ras- 
tell  the  printer,  the  brother-in-law  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  strength- 
ened him  at  the  Court,  which  he  had  entered  in  the  capacity  of 
"singer."  In  any  case  he  figures  in  the  Court  Expenses  of  three 
reigns.  Although  Wood  rates  him  as  an  Oxford  man,  traditionally 
he  was  valued  "for  the  myrth  and  quickness  of  his  conceits  more 
than  for  any  good  learning. "  ^  Probably  he  was  concerned  with 
the  many  masques  and  entertainments  at  Court,  an  occupation 
in  which  his  wit  and  humor  had  full  play.  That  that  was  his  repu- 
tation is  shown  by  his  description  of  himself.^ 

"  Of  Heywood." 
"Art  thou  Heywood,  with  the  mad  merry  wit?" 
"Yea,  forsooth,  master!  that  same  is  even  hit."  ^ 

"Art  thou  Heywood  that  applieth  mirth  more  than  thrift?" 
"Yea,  sir!    I  take  merry  mirth  a  golden  gift!" 
"Art  thou  Heywood  that  hath  made  many  mad  plays?" 
"Yea,  many  plays;  few  good  works  in  all  my  days." 
"Art  thou  Heywood  that  hath  made  men  merry  long?" 
"Yea,  and  will,  if  I  be  made  merry  among." 
"Art  thou  Heywood  that  would  be  made  merry  now?" 
"Yea,  sir!  help  me  to  it  now  I  beseech  yow." 

It  is  unfair  to  take  a  man's  description  of  himself  too  seriously, 
but  he  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  mad  merry  wit.  Even  in 
Puttenham's  time,  anecdotes  were  current  showing  his  quickness 
of  repartee.  This  is  particularly  shown  in  his  plays.  It  is  by  them 
that  Heywood  maintains  his  hold  upon  the  attention  of  the  modem 
reader.  Following  the  French  models  in  substituting  characters 
drawn  from  real  life  for  the  tedious  abstractions  of  the  morality 

^  Puttenham,  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Lib.  I,  cap.  xxxi. 

»  100  of  Heywood;  The  Fifth  Hundred  of  Epigrams.    Ed.  J.  S.  Farmer. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  103 

plays,  Heywood  took  a  long  step  forward  in  the  direction  of 
comedy.  Hence,  in  any  history  of  the  development  of  the  drama 
form,  Heywood  occupies  a  conspicuous  position.^ 

But  whatever  French  influence  may  be  shown  in  his  dramatic 
works,  there  is  none  in  his  poems.  His  EpigramSj^  though  founded 
upon  humanistic  models,  are  characterized  by  their  idiomatic 
English.  Still  more  so  is  this  true  of  his  "Proverbs, "  a  disquisition 
on  marriage  in  eleven  chapters  of  dialogue.  The  peculiarity  of 
the  poem,  however,  is  that  the  narrative  avowedly  serves  but  as 
a  frame  for  "our  common  plain  pithy  proverbs  old."  Although 
both  of  these  are  experiments,  they  both  show  Heywood  as  con- 
servative rather  than  as  innovator. 

The  work  of  Heywood,  however,  that  concerns  us  here,  is  his 
curious  allegory  The  Spider  and  the  Fly.  Not  the  least  curious 
feature  about  it  is  the  way  it  has  been  tacitly  ignored.  In  bulk 
it  occupies  one  third  of  his  collected  writings.  It  is  perhaps 
on  account  of  this  very  bulk  that  it  is  so  seldom  read.  It  be- 
longs in  the  category  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
a  book  that  we  never  find  just  the  leisure  to  complete.  Conse- 
quently if  Ward's  objection  that  only  those  critics  that  have  read 
the  poem  discuss  the  poem  holds,  I  fear  that  the  name  would  appear 
even  less  often  in  print.  But  the  main  reason  for  this  neglect  is 
to  be  found,  not  in  the  size,  but  in  the  obscurity  of  the  poem.  It 
is  as  Heywood  says  a  "parable."  In  form  it  belongs  to  the 
type  now  so  familiar.  In  a  morning,  the  description  of  which  is 
reminiscent  of  the  Prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales,  the  author  sees 
a  fly  entangled  in  the  web  of  a  spider.  The  body  of  the  poem, 
then,  is  taken  up  with  these  characters, — a  method  of  introduc- 
tion very  similar  to  that  of  The  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  except  that 
the  author  remains  always  the  spectator.  When  it  is  added  that 
the  story  is  an  allegory,  that  there  are  personifications,  and  that 
it  is  written  in  the  rime-royal,  it  belongs  obviously  to  the  group. 

The  interest  to  us  lies,  however,  not  in  its  similarity  but  in  its 
differences  from  the  type.  First  and  foremost,  the  characters  are 
not  abstractions,  such  as  Danger,  Venus,  et.  al. ;  they  are  animals. 

'  As  the  drama  has  been  the  subject  of  so  many  and  such  detailed  studies,  it  is 
simpler  here  to  refer  the  reader  to  Professor  Brooke's  "The  Tudor  Drama,"  where 
this  side  of  Heywood's  work  is  discussed. 

*  These  are  discussed  in  Chapter  III  following. 


104  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Thus  on  one  side  it  is  akin  to  the  Second  Nun  Priesfs  Tale  or 
Reynard  the  Fox.  Apparently  the  story  breaks  into  two  quite 
distinct  parts.  The  first  twenty-seven  chapters  consist  in  the 
elaborate  legal  arguments  presented  by  the  fly,  who  has  blundered 
into  a  spider's  web,  and  the  spider's  rejoinders.  Then  arbitrators, 
an  ant  and  a  butterfly,  are  called.  After  twenty -two  more  chapters 
in  which  the  original  issue  gets  befogged  by  the  introduction  of 
irrelevant  issues,  the  arbitrators  leave  the  case  exactly  where  they 
found  it.  Whereupon  the  spiders  retire  to  their  castle  in  which 
they  are  besieged  by  the  flies  with  the  ant  as  their  prisoner.  After 
various  fluctuations  of  the  fortunes  of  war,  to  save  the  ant,  the 
spider  grants  peace  but  on  the  condition  that  the  original  fly  shall 
die.  As  this  is  about  to  take  place,  the  maid  of  the  house  destroys 
the  web  with  her  broom,  kills  the  chief  spider,  and  redresses 
grievances. 

This  poem  has  been  unfortunate  in  receiving  almost  universal 
condemnation.  Only  twenty-one  years  after  it  had  been  first 
printed,  William  Harrison  ^  confessed  that  Heywood  "dealeth 
so  profoimdlie,  and  beyond  all  measure  of  skill,  that  neither  him- 
selfe  that  made  it,  neither  anie  one  that  readeth  it,  can  reach  vnto 
the  meaning  therof."  This  opinion  is  endorsed  by  Warton  with 
the  comment  "sensible."  He  adds  that  in  his  judgment  "perhaps 
there  never  was  so  dull,  so  tedious  and  trifling  an  apologue;  without 
fancy,  meaning,  or  moral.  .  .  Our  author  seems  to  have  intended 
a  fable  on  the  burlesque  construction;  but  we  know  not,  when  he 
would  be  serious  and  when  witty. "  ^  Modem  criticism  quietly 
but  firmly  ignores  it  altogether.^ 

This  opinion  is  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at  as  the  meaning  of  the 
poem  is  undoubtedly  obscure.  That  there  is  a  meaning  intended 
is  so  stated  by  the  author  himself  in  the  Preface.* 

A  Parable:  is  properilie  one  thing. 
That  of  an  other  doth  conceiuing  bring. 
Yea:  (oftentims)  as  parables  are  scand. 
One  score  of  things:  by  one,  be  vnderstand. 

^  Description  of  England,  prefixed  to  Holinshed's  Chronicle.    Quoted  by  Warton. 

*  History  of  English  Poetry, — 1871 — i,  p.  85. 

*  There  seems  to  be  no  reference  to  it  in  Ten  Brink,  in  Courthope,  or  in  The 
Cambridge  History. 

*  The  Preface,  p.  3.    Farmer's  ed. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  105 

Eche  one  of  all:  scanned  and  vsed  well, 

Maie  teache  the  scanner  good:  to  take  &  tel. 

Contrarilie:  scanned  and  vsed  ill. 

Like  il  likewise,  the  fniite  a  mounteth  untill. 

Wherfore,  before  entrance  to  scanning  here: 

In  present  parable  here  to  appere. 

First  to  induct  (for  to  conduct)  the  waie: 

How  readers  and  scanners:  redilie  maie: 

Right  scanning  (in  right  reading)  here  purchase. 

He  goes  on  to  illustrate  his  position  by  an  anecdote  of  three  women 
dressing  before  a  mirror.  Each  could  see  the  errors  of  the  other 
two  while  remaining  ignorant  of  her  own,  and  the  reader  is  en- 
joined to  meditate  carefully  upon  the  mirror  of  our  actions  pre- 
sented in  the  picture.  The  only  help  to  the  interpretation  is  found 
in  the  conclusion.  The  maid  is  stated  to  be  Queen  Mary,  the 
master  of  the  house,  Christ,  and  the  mistress  the  Holy  Catholic 
Church.  The  matter  is  scarcely  clarified,  however,  by  his  state- 
ments at  the  beginning  of  the  poem.^ 

I  haue,  (good  readers)  this  parable  here  pende: 

(After  olde  beginning)  newly  brought  to  ends. 

The  thing,  yeres  mo  then  twentie  since  it  begoon. 

To  the  thing:  yeres  mo  then  ninetene,  nothing  doon. 

The  frewet  was  grene:  I  durst  not  gather  it  than. 

For  feare  of  rotting:  before  riping  began. 

The  losse  (it  on  the  frewterers  hande  lying:) 

Had  (in  that  mistery)  mard  his  occupying. 

This  worke  (among  my  poore  workes)  thus  hath  it  past: 

Begon  with  the  first,  and  ended  with  the  last. 

The  poem  was  printed  in  1556.  The  last  part  was  written  not 
earher  than  '55  because  there  are  allusions  to  the  marriage  of  Mary 
with  Philip  of  Spain.^  "  Yeres  mo  then  twentie, "  subtracted  from 
'56  would  practically  make  it  antedate  the  Pilgrimage  of  Grace. 
Consequently,  this  rules  out  Professor  Ward's  interpretation.  The 
presumption  is  that  the  first  twenty-seven  chapters  deal  with  the 
legal  difficulties  when  Wolsey  was  Lord  Chancellor.  There  are 
some,  perhaps  casual,  allusions  which  seem  to  support  Haber's 

■     »  Conclusion— rA«  Spidtr  and  the  Fly,  p.  450. 

*  In  the  interpretation  of  the  poem  I  follow  Dr.  Jakob  Biaber — Litterarhittoruche 
Fortchujigen,  1900. 


106  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

contention  that  Wolsey  is  the  chief  spider;  the  fly  then  in  this 
part  represents  the  commons.  This  view  becomes  more  plausible 
when  Heywood's  intimacy  with  Sir  Thomas  More  is  considered. 
But,  after  Wolsey's  death  in  '30  this  satiric  fable  in  a  measure  lost 
its  point.  Or,  even  before  Wolsey's  death  Heywood's  connection 
with  the  court  may  have  made  it  seem  to  him  inadvisable  to  pub- 
lish it.  In  any  case,  he  allowed  it  to  rest,  according  to  his  own 
statement,  for  nineteen  years.  Nineteen  plus  thirty  gives  us  the 
year  '49,  when  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  who  now  becomes 
the  chief  spider,  marches  against  the  discontented  yeomen,  who 
now  become  the  flies.  Consequently,  in  the  same  poem,  with  no 
mark  whatever  of  transition,  there  is  a  dual  personalty  for  the 
spiders  and  a  dual  class  for  the  flies.  Moreover,  as  the  "new 
men"  during  the  minority  of  Edward  VI  belonged  to  the  reform- 
ing party,  whereas  the  yeoman  were  still  largely  Roman  Catholics, 
there  is  a  measure  of  truth  in  the  old  theory  that  the  spiders  are 
the  protestants  and  the  flies  the  catholics  whom  Mary  supported 
by  the  death  of  the  chief  spider.  Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that, 
when  the  memory  of  these  events  had  passed  away,  a  poem  so  in- 
consistent with  itself  should  be  regarded  as  unintelligible? 

From  our  point  of  view,  however,  the  poem  has  been  unjustly 
neglected  because  Heywood's  method  is  very  significant.  On  one 
side,  as  has  been  said,  the  poem  is  a  specimen  of  a  perfectly  fami- 
liar type,  with  all  the  characteristics  of  that  type.  On  the  other, 
we  find  the  old  form  changed  with  an  entirely  new  content.  What 
differentiates  it  sharply  from  medieval  work  is  that  it  is  political. 
Instead  of  personified  abstractions,  we  find  here  concrete  persons 
figuring  under  a  thin  disguise,  and  actual  contemporary  events 
told  as  an  allegory.  As  such,  it  is  the  progenitor  of  a  number  of 
English  works  that  can  scarcely  be  ignored  in  the  history  of  the 
literature.  Exactly  the  same  method  is  used  by  Spenser  in  his 
Mother  Hubberd's  Tale.  And  as  moreover  Heywood's  inconsist- 
ency between  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  his  poem  has  been 
followed  by  Spenser,  there  is  exactly  the  same  difficulty  in  mak- 
ing it  intelligible.  And  Mother  Hubberd's  Tale  is  the  avowed  pre- 
cedent for  Dryden's  Hind  and  the  Panther.  It  is  a  curious  (and 
unfruitful)  speculation  whether  among  the  books  in  Temple's 
library  Swift  may  not  have  found  a  copy  of  the  Heywood,  to  sug- 
gest to  him  his  most  famous  episode  in  the  Battle  of  the  Books. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  107 

If  so,  he  probably  did  nothing  but  look  at  the  cuts,  in  which  the 
fly  is  the  size  of  a  very  large  bee.  Be  this  as  it  may,  in  any  case 
the  possible  influence  of  Heywood's  poem  is  an  interesting  specu- 
lation. 

The  severe  condemnation  of  the  critics  is  not  quite  justified  on 
the  ground  of  literary  treatment.  To  the  general  reader  the  poem 
is  undoubtedly  dull,  but  that  is  because  he  is  ignorant  of  the  in- 
terpretation. At  the  time  when  all  England  was  vocal  with  the 
injustice  of  the  law-courts,  when  More  won  his  great  popularity 
through  remedying  the  abuses,  it  would  not  have  been  called  dull. 
Heywood's  relationship  to  the  great  Chancellor  seems  to  imply 
that  he  knows  his  subject.  Even  today  the  presentation  is  not 
without  humor.  Not  only  is  it  very  colloquial,  but  he  aims  at  an 
intentionally  comic  effect  by  attributing  human  gesture  to  his 
characters.  Thus  the  fly  wrings  his  hands  and  feet.  The  young 
spider  begs  his  father,  "for  some  part  of  that  flesh  fly's  brain." 
Whereat  the  fond  mother  ^ 

How  say  ye  to  this  babe  (quoth  the  mother) 
Will  ye  here  this  vrchin  of  eyght  weekes  olde. 
It  is  a  babling  brat  aloue  all  other. 

Human  nature  is  much  the  same  now  as  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
When  the  fly  has  first  blundered  into  the  web,  the  spider  is  terri- 
fied.= 


2 


Is  it  the  diuell?  or  is  it  our  dame? 

Or  is  it  the  page?  or  is  it  the  groome? 

Or  is  it  our  maide  with  hinbirchin  broome? 

Betwene  the  diuel,  and  all  these,  last  and  furst. 

The  diuel  take  me,  if  I  can  choose  the  wurst. 

But  ill,  woorse,  and  woorst,  diuel,  and  all  togither 

Do  me  assaute  as  it  (to  me)  doth  sceme. 

Hath  fortune  wrought  my  foes  at  this  tyme  hither. 

And  not  so  much  as  wamde  me  to  misdeeme. 

Now  fie  on  fickle  fortune  thus  extreeme. 

And  I  defie  the  garde  of  suche  a  guider, 

Alas  (this  day)  I  am  but  a  dead  spider. 

1  Page  43.  •Pa«eS7. 


108  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

These  woordes  thus  spoken,  downe  anone  he  sanke. 
Kneling  a  while,  deuoutlie  on  his  knee. 
And  then  rounde  on  a  heape,  to  grounde  he  shranke 
Like  an  vrchin  vnder  an  aple  tree. 

This  is  of  course  the  trick  used  by  all  fabulists  in  all  times  in  all 
languages.  It  is  the  main  source  of  humor  in  the  Nonne  Prestes' 
Tale,  the  one  tale  that  Dryden's  modernization  renders  success- 
fully. At  least  then,  let  Heywood  be  given  the  credit  for  his  em- 
ployment of  it. 

There  is  one  more  differentiating  characteristic  of  the  poem, — 
and  one  that  can  be  illustrated  only  by  a  long  quotation.  The 
passage  chosen  is  the  speech  of  the  mediating  ant.* 

My  masters  flies  here  all  in  general! : 
And  eche  one  perticulerlie:  I  humblie  praie. 
What  things  I  shall  touch,  generall  or  speciall: 
To  take  to  the  best.    And  first  that  I  made: 
As  remembrauncer  of  your  remembraunce,  ley 
One  speciall  meane  forth  here:  remembred  to  be. 
Drawing  herers  in  all  things  to  equite. 

And  equite,  in  all  things:  to  giue  or  to  take: 
(Among  other  vertues)  is  a  vertew  pewre. 
Inequite,  for  wrong,  no  waie  can  make. 
Where  equite,  is  set  and  setled  sewre. 
For  equite  in  no  wise  may  endure; 
Balance,  to  anie  one  side,  cast  or  dreuine. 
Equite,  equallie;  kepth  the  balance  euine. 

Which  meane:  for  which  equite  to  be  obteynde. 

Is:  that  herers:  in  hereing  this  mi  case 

Se:  that  diflBnitiue  iudgement  be  refreynd. 

In  anie  part  thereof:  to  take  anie  place, 

Tyll  the  whole  be  hard.    Which  hering  to  purchase. 

Is  my  great  sewt.    Beseching  all  to  susspende: 

Iudgement  in  euerie  part:  till  all  parts  take  ende. 

First  for  me:  next  for  you  and  me:  last  for  you: 
I  sew  to  be  hard.    And  first  for  me,  marke  all. 
From  all  offence  by  me  done;  to  you  here  now, 
Syns  I  cam,  in  this  case  that  doth  here  fall, 
I  am  clearde.    By  one  vnsuspect  for  parshall, 
I  meane  that  worshipfull  maister  butterflie: 
Who  trieth  me:  to  haue  delt  here  indiffrentlie. 

iPp.  285-244. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  109 

He  cleerth  me  sins  I  cam.    And  before  I  cam, 
Yf  any  flie  (lustlie)  to  my  charge  can  lay; 
In  anie  thing  waying  the  weyght  of  a  dram. 
By  worde,  or  decde:  either  open  or  priuey; 
That  euer  I  hurt  flie:  anie  maner  way. 
Then  let  my  ponishment  here:  be  so  ample. 
That  all  ants  may  therby  take  an  example. 

But  being  clere  sins  I  cam:  and  more  tauow; 
Being  clere  till  I  cam:  from  woorde  and  deede  ill, 
Alas:  why  will  ye  kill  me,  who  hmlh  not  yow. 
Nor  neuer  did  hurt  you,  nor  neuer  will. 
Nor  neuer  can:  though  will  wold  ill  fulfill. 
This:  for  my  slefe  leyde  (as  for  my  selfe  proued, 
I  hope  my  selfe  sure:  from  harme  by  you  moued. 

Secondly:  for  you  and  me  both,  this  meane  I. 

Yf  ye  draw  the  blood  of  me:  (thus  innosent). 

As  the  los  is  small,  so  naught  wyn  ye  therby. 

But  (as  is  saide)  infamie  of  endles  extent. 

Which  paino  fro  me:  and  shame  from  you  to  preuent. 

The  safe  salue  for  both  sides:  is  this  to  decre, 

Saue  you  my  life,  and  that  saueth  your  honesto. 

Third:  and  last  poynt:  nought  for  me,  all  for  you: 
Prouying  me,  not  only:  you  no  whit  to  hate. 
But  much  to  leue:  a  tale  He  tell  and  a  vow. 
Which:  you  hering  and  folowing:  in  stedie  state. 
Shall  stedilie  stey  you,  from  harme  in  debate: 
That  hangth  ouer  your  heds:  much  more  than  ye  se, 
Wherin  for  you  and  not  for  me  (I  say),  here  me. 

Among  many  presepts  philosoficall: 

Geuon  to  all  persona:  to  take  profet  by. 

For  tyme:  place:  and  case  present,  aboue  all. 

One  serueth  in  sentence  most  singulerly. 

The  woordes  short:  the  matter  long:  the  reason  hy. 

Which  woordes  and  matter,  on  these  woordes  do  depende. 

Ere  thou  ought  b^fin,  haye  an  eie  to  the  ende. 

This  pure  presept:  as  all  oft  in  woordes  sey  it: 
If  all  did  do  it,  in  effectuall  deede. 
So  that  our  deeds  did  it:  as  our  woords  wei  it. 
Oh;  what  commoditee  therby  shuld  proceede. 
Our  full  felicitee;  shuld  thervpon  breede. 
As  contrarily  breed th:  in  contrary  show, 
Infelidtee;  aa  we  feelingly  know. 


no  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Who  wold  begin  a  fray:  and  his  fo  therin  kill? 
If  he  lookt  to  thend,  that  shuld  hang  him  therefore. 
I  wene  all  the  world,  shuld  be  kept  from  all  ill; 
Kept  we  this  lesson  well,  in  practised  lore: 
To  thend  of  beginning;  to  looke  euermore; 
Before  we  begin,  for  when  we  haue  begoon. 
The  leaning  of  lightly,  is  not  lightly  woon. 

Small  things  begun;  without  looking  to  their  end. 

Cum  oft  to  ill  end:  great  lesse,  and  ieoperdee. 

Great  things:  begoon  than:  none  lie  on  thend  tatend 

At  (or  ere)  their  beginning;  we  must  agree; 

To  be  our  much  more  discommoditee. 

As  things:  greatter  and  smaller:  differ  in  sise. 

So  diffreth  here:  discommoditee  likewise. 

And  of  all  our  great  thyngs:  no  one  of  more  weyght. 
Nor  therby  more  meets;  thend  therin  to  wey; 
At  beginning,  then  is  that  better  beyght; 
Of  wrechid  war.    The  very  locke  and  key. 
That  lacheth  and  lookth  vs  all,  from  quiet  stey. 
Who  that  (in  rashe  roofe)  beginneth  to  contend©. 
He  repenth  beginning,  ere  he  cum  to  ende. 

It  is  a  thing:  right  far  be  yond  an  ants  reche: 

To  blase  the  plat  of  peyson;  generaly; 

Set  a  broche  by  war,  but  short  sum  to  feche: 

Warres  harme:  and  good,  stand  bothe  vnspeakably. 

Both  are  (I  say)  vnspeakable  for  why. 

War  hath  done  more  harme;  then  tale  of  toung  can  holde. 

War  hath  done  no  good,  and  nought  can  not  be  tolde. 

War  hath  wrought  such  wo:  that  all  flies  comunly. 
And  spyders  eke.    Of  which  two  sortes  I  speake: 
Hauing  in  all  times  had  experiensy. 
Of  rashs  beginning  of  war:  the  peace  to  breake. 
They  feeling  (in  their  war)  their  winning  weake, 
Wolde  loose  half  the  good  they  had:  to  peace  to  fall: 
Rather  than  ieberd  in  war:  goods  life  and  all. 

And  of  both  sortes  in  this  case,  weried  in  war. 

Flies  haye  had  euer  cause;  to  mislike  war  moste. 

When  spiders  and  flies;  haue  falne  at  this  lyke  iar. 

For  quarels:  wherin  flies,  might  most  their  ryght  boste; 

Who  suer  had  the  right,  the  flies  the  feeld  lost. 

To  one  score  spyders  sleyne,  flies  slayne,  twentyscore. 

And  much  of  their  ofspring,  lost  for  euermore. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  111 

Which  showth  as  spiders  calte,  that  no  dedicion; 

Can  haue  good  sucses.    In  flies  inferior: 

By  stobume  war,  but  by  humbyll  peticion: 

For  thing  interior,  or  exterior. 

Flies  must  sew:  to  the  spider  superior. 

They  take  this  as  a  full  hold:  not  to  be  remist. 

Well  framid  flies,  wyll  suflFre  and  not  resist. 

Flies  wreks  in  wars:  in  time  past:  yf  flies  reuolue. 
How  spiders  cop  webs:  flies  sepiJtures  haue  beene. 
Your  wise  quiet  retire,  shall  this  war  disolue. 
But  yf  smart  of  time  past:  be  forgotten  cleene. 
Cast  lye  to  parell,  at  lyre  presentlie  scene. 
Vew  yonder  copweb  castell:  with  endifrent  iye: 
And  marke  whether  ye  be  macht  endifrentyle. 

Behold:  the  batilments  in  euerie  loope: 
How  thordinance  Ueth:  fliers  fer  and  nere  to  fach. 
Behold;  how  euerie  peece:  that  lith  there  in  groope: 
Hath  a  spider  gonner:  with  redy  firtd  mach. 
Behold  on  the  wals:  spiders  waking  ware  wach. 
The  wach  spider:  in  the  towre  a  larum  to  strike. 
At  a  proch  of  any  nomber,  showing  war  like. 

Se  then  prenabill  fort:  in  euery  border. 

How  euerie  spider:  with  his  weapon  doth  stand. 

So  thorowlie  hamest:  in  so  good  order: 

The  capitall  spider:  with  weapon  in  hand. 

For  that  sort  of  sowdiers:  so  manfully  mand. 

With  cop  webs:  like  casting  netts:  all  flies  to  quell. 

My  hart  shaketh  at  the  sight:  be  hold:  it  is  hell. 

Against  whose  strength  there,  your  weaknes  here  behold* 
Sum  haue  hames:  most  haue  none:  all  oft  of  rey. 
Capitaynes:  practised:  politike  and  bold. 
Few  or  none  haue  ye:  this  armie  to  conuey. 
But  eche  in  others  neck:  as  sheepe  start  a  strey. 
Ordinance  meete  for  the  ship,  ye  bring  to  the  feelde 
But  force  without  order:  winth  victorie  seelde. 

And  put  case:  that  of  you  fortie  thousand  flise: 
Thirtie  thousand:  shall  scape,  and  his  window  win. 
Yet  if  ech  one  of  you:  in  him  selfe  surmise: 
That  he  shalbe  one:  that  shall  die  entring  in. 
What  one  flie  (of  all  flies)  wil  thassaute  begin? 
No  one,  but  that  one  that  from  home  now  come. 
Shall  thinkc  him  sclfc  wisest,  that  sonest  goth  home. 


112  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

But  to  die  all:  and  in  this  window  nought  geynel 
Of  that:  sayde  practise  of  time  past:  assewrth  ye. 
To  venter  life,  and  suffer  deth,  are  thinges  tweyne. 
Ventring  of  life,  tobteyne  right,  oft  as  we. 
But  to  venter  life:  where  deth  hath  certente. 
For  these  kinds  of  right:  to  die:  while  ye  may  liue. 
No  wise  flie  will:  but  right  rather  ouer  give. 

But  if  your  harms  of  time  past:  be  forgoten. 
Warning  of  present  harms:  at  present  time  take. 
Of  which  two  measures:  if  none  may  be  moten. 
Time  past,  nor  time  present  (of  which  two  I  spake). 
Let  the  third:  time  to  cum:  be  meane,  thend  to  make. 
Weying  that  in  time  to  cum.    The  end  must  cum: 
To  one  end  of  foure,  which  folow  here  in  sum. 

After  this  war  begoon,  either  both  parts  shall: 
Take  ende  with  condision:  as  both  parts  can  gre. 
Or  continew  in  war,  time  perpetuall: 
Or  the  flies  (by  the  spiders)  conquered  shalbe. 
Or  the  spiders  conquered  by  the  flies.    Now  se: 
How:  in  eche  one  end  of  these  fowre:  shall  a  rise, 
Paynftdl  perelus  penuries,  to  all  flies. 

First:  if  ye  after  a  time  had  in  conflickt: 
Take  ende  with  the  spider:  by  composicion. 
Beside  the  flies:  that  to  death  shalbe  addickt: 
The  suruiuers:  shall  receyue  such  condicion: 
At  the  spiders  hand:  as  the  distribution: 
Shall  make  flies  at  end:  bid  fle  on  their  winning. 
And  after  that  end:  repent  their  beginning. 

Second:  this  war:  continuing  continualy, 

Euery  yere,  moneth,  weeke,  day,  howre,  euery  minute: 

Many  flies  shall  die,  and  all  may  feare  to  dy: 

What  flie  can  besure:  one  howres  life  texecute: 

At  poyntes  of  all  weapons,  euer  had  in  pursute. 

In  vndoughted  death:  and  doughtfuU  deadly  life. 

This  ende  sheweth  small  difrens,  where  reason  is  rife: 

Thirdly:  yf  the  spider  do  conquere  you  flise. 
What  so  euer  flie  then:  him  selfe  best  he  haues: 
The  best  and  the  worste:  all  in  one  rate  shall  rise. 
Now  frank  free  franklin  flies,  then  all  vile  bonde  slaues. 
Now  flie  in  light  windowse,  then  sit  in  darke  caues. 
Flies  beginning  war:  ending  thus,  they  shall  clere. 
Their  hell  or  purgatory,  begin  euine  here. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  113 

The  fourth:  yf  you  flies  shall  the  spider  conqueare. 
Then  shall  all  spiders  go  to  wracke  first:  no  doubt. 
And  after  shall  the  flies  folow:  eueri  wheare. 
When  flies  haud  kild  spiders:  that  stey  the  rewde  rout. 
Then  flie  against  flie:  comiin  cuthrote  moste  stout. 
Foure  endes:  in  this  one  war:  show  (thone  and  thother. 
The  last  being  worste),  ech  end  wors  then  other. 

In  time  past:  time  present:  and  in  time  to  come: 
Sins  ye  haue  woon:  do  win:  nor  shall  win  here  ought, 
Beter  wende  your  ship  a  loose:  and  take  sea  roome: 
Then  roon  here  on  rockes,  and  to  shipwrak  be  brought: 
It  is  to  fer  fet:  and  ferder  to  dere  bought: 
To  fet:  and  bye  thinges:  with  no  les  los  in  striues: 
But  with  los:  both  of  all  your  liuinges  and  lines. 

Here  haue  I  sayde  my  minde:  vnder  principles  few. 
First:  desiring  you  to  here  me  thorowly. 
Ere  ye  iudge  any  part,  or  what  I  should  shew. 
And  then  to  iudge  me,  by  equite  equaly. 
Whervnto:  for  hereing  in  this  case  sewde  I, 
First  for  me,  next  for  you  and  me,  last  for  you. 
Of  which  proses  a  brigde,  brefe  pith  aprochth  now. 

For  me:  the  flies  and  butterflies  tales:  I  weyde: 
To  my  discharge.    Sins  I  cam:  of  all  ofifence. 
And  before  I  cam,  my  discharge  my  selfe  leyde. 
Wherin:  my  case  being  giltles  inosence. 
For  you  and  me,  both  in  reson  and  consiens. 
To  saue  both  sides  vpright,  this  counseil  I  gaue. 
You  to  saue  my  life,  your  honestie  to  saue. 

Foryou  and  not  me:  in  your  present  quarell. 

On  this  principle,  my  hole  talke  did  depende. 

Ere  we  ought  begin:  namelie  thing  of  parell. 

Wisdom  wilth  vs,  to  haue  an  lye  to  the  ende. 

In  parelus  quarelus  case:  to  contende: 

Chieflie  this:  in  time  past:  present:  and  to  cum. 

How  ye  sped:  and  be  like  to  spede,  I  shoud  the  sum. 

But  to  end  at  beginning:  you  casting  lye. 

At  this  poore  counseil :  of  poore  Anionic  ant. 

Of  shap  and  good  wit  small:  of  good  will  great  and  hye, 

I  shall  reioyse.    Hoping  here  shall  be  no  want: 

Of  equite:  in  my  discharge  this  instant. 

Which  I  humbly  pray:  and  so  to  end  to  fall, 

I  say  no  more:  but  the  great  God  saue  you  all. 


114  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

This  done:  a  noyse  began  of  such  a  huzzing, 

Ech  one  flie  blowing  in  an  other  flies  ears, 

As  if  ten  milions  of  flies  had  ben  buzzing. 

And  all:  by  this  tale  so  astonide  in  feare. 

That  most  of  them:  their  weapons  could  scantly  beard. 

Thants  perswasions:  in  drede  of  deth:  strake  them  so, 

That  hundreds  cride  oute,  home  agayne  let  vs  go. 

With  this  mounser  graund  captayne  the  great  bragger: 

Was  much  a  mased,  and  vengeably  vext. 

To  se  these  flies  now:  so  vnstedily  stagger. 

So  late  so  redie:  to  bring  their  foose  perplext. 

This  time  (thought  he)  should  giue  warning  to  the  next. 

Yf  he  scaped  this  at  all  times  to  be  ware. 

With  faint  fond  flies,  to  fiske  agayne  a  warfare. 

At  once  upon  reading  this  speech,  the  intellectual  quality  be- 
comes apparent.  It  may  be  thus  briefly  digested.  The  ant  is  not 
partial,  or  he  would  not  be  there.  He  himself  has  never  hurt  a 
fly,  and,  since  he  is  of  small  account,  they  would  gain  nothing  by 
killing  him.  After  this  introduction  he  argues  that  the  flies  should 
cease  the  conflict  because  (1)  it  will  be  they  who  suffer  most  by 
the  war;  (2)  the  spiders  are  fortified;  (3)  they  are  well  armed;  (4)  an 
end  must  come.  This  will  be  either  (1)  perpetual  war, — a  con- 
dition which  is  hopeless;  or,  (2)  the  flies  will  be  conquered, — and 
defeat  will  be  hopeless;  or,  (3)  the  spiders  will  be  conquered, — 
again  undesirable  as  anarchy  will  result.  There  he  advised  peace. 
It  is  a  fact  that  when  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  was  besieged 
somewhat  as  in  the  poem,  he  did  persuade  the  rebels  to  disband. 
The  question  arises  whether  he  accomplished  the  result  by  some 
such  reasoning.  The  argument  as  it  stands,  in  its  introduction, 
taking  the  point  of  view  of  the  audience,  and  in  its  development 
by  use  of  the  dilemma,  is  worthy  of  Hawes'  goddess  of  Rhetoric. 
All  possible  alternatives  are  discussed,  the  inevitable  conclusion 
reached.  At  once  it  suggests  the  speech  of  Belial  in  Paradise 
Lost,  said  to  be  a  model  for  parliamentary  debate.  Still  more  in 
its  dry  intellectual  quality  does  it  remind  one  of  Dryden.  And  it 
is  interesting  in  an  age  of  formal  formlessness  to  find  so  rigid  an 
example  of  pure  form. 

One  more  characteristic  of  Heywood's  verse  deserves  to  be  point- 
ed out,  and  that  is  his  use  of  alliteration.  He  has  a  marked  ten- 
dency to  hunt  the  letter.    Thus 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  115 

He  wafted  his  winges,  he  wtigged  his  tayle  * 
Another  illustration  is  ^ 

Oh  sodayne  sorowe,  from  setled  solas. 
For  so  sat  I  in  solas:  as  me  thought. 
Oh  fortune,  false  flaterer  that  euer  was. 
In  one  moment,  and  in  an  other  wrought. 
So  furious,  that  both  thaffects  foorth  brought, 
Furie,  or  flaterie  .  .  . 

Such  marked  liking  for  alliteration  is  thoroughly  English.  The 
early  poetry,  of  course,  was  purely  alliterative,  and  it  is  this  char- 
acteristic of  Heywood's  verse  that  has  suggested  the  comparison 
with  Piers  Ploimnan.  There  is  of  course  no  necessity  for  local- 
izing it  in  one  poem.  It  is  the  common  feature  of  early  work.  But 
Heywood's  poetry  is  typically  English,  curiously  unaffected  by  the 
foreign  influence  of  his  time.    As  Haber  says  ^ 

Classical  antiquity  one  seeks  in  him  in  vain,  even  so  is  the  knightly  bone  of  the 
Elizabethan  age  strange  to  him;  he  is  very  bourgeois  and  through  and  through 
English;  his  material,  his  speech,  his  metre,  his  treatment,  all  is  English,  he  is 
rooted  in  Chaucer,  in  the  school  of  Chaucer,  in  the  knowledge  and  expression  of  the 
people. 

But  if  this  be  true,  the  comparatively  rapid  oblivion  that  has  over- 
taken his  great  work  needs  explanation.  The  first  reason  is  that 
it  needs  too  minute  a  knowledge  of  temporary  conditions  to  be 
intelligible.  But  the  second  reason  is  that,  even  when  he  wrote, 
his  poem  was  out  of  date.  He  was  reproducing  a  past  type,  and 
even  his  modifications  of  the  type  did  not  save  it.  By  Heywood's 
time,  the  humanists  had  done  their  part  and  Wyatt  and  Surrey 
had  given  an  Italian  color  to  English  letters.  From  this  point  of 
view,  the  lack  of  appreciation  of  the  critics  is  illustrative  of  the 
drying  up  of  the  purely  English  .source  of  inspiration. 

In  Heywood,  then,  we  find  the  last  modification  of  the  formal 
poetry  of  the  Middle  Ages.  With  the  great  changes  in  the  social 
fabric  and  in  the  mental  point  of  view,  the  adaptation  of  the  alle- 
gorical poem  of  the  fifteenth  centurj'  to  the  needs  of  the  sixteenth 
presents  a  curious  study.    The  author  of  tlie  Court  of  Love  tried 

»  Page  27.  >  Page  29.  » Ibid.,  p.  113. 


116  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

to  imp>ose  it  intact  upon  the  men  of  his  generation.  And  in  spite 
of  his  undoubted  genius,  he  failed.  Hawes,  combining  it  with  the 
chivahic  romance,  produced  a  hybrid  that  pleased.  Skelton  turned 
it  to  satire,  and  then  contemptuously  abandoned  it  altogether. 
And  last  of  all  Heywood  rather  pathetically  endeavored  to  sup- 
port the  tottering  structure  by  personalities  and  contemporaneous 
reference.  And  great  was  the  fall  thereof.  And  yet,  all  these  modi- 
fications are  combined  and  assimilated  by  the  genius  of  Spenser 
into  the  Faerie  Queene.  There  one  finds  the  personified  abstrac- 
tions of  the  first,  the  chivalry  of  the  second,  the  satire  of  the 
third,  and  the  historical  allusion,  the  episode  of  Burbon  for 
example,^  of  the  fourth.  So  true  is  this  that,  without  an  un- 
derstanding of  the  work  of  the  first  half  of  the  century,  the  typi- 
cal work  of  the  last  half  must  have  seemed  unintelligible.  And 
without  this  knowledge,  Spenserian  critics  have  been  driven  far 
afield  in  their  efforts  to  justify  by  literary  precedent  the  varying 
developments  of  his  poem.  Actually  the  foundations  for  his  struc- 
ture were  laid  by  obscure  writers,  each  one  contributing  his  quota. 
The  many-sided  genius  of  Spenser  took  this  medieval  tradition, 
combined  it  with  humanism  and  with  the  Italian, — and  the  world 
has  forgotten  the  lesser  men.  But  just  as  it  is  illogical  to  praise  the 
flower  and  ignore  the  root,  so  it  is  for  the  literary  student  of  Spen- 
ser to  pass  by  these  contributors  to  the  medieval  tradition. 

There  is  a  curious  appendix  to  be  placed  at  the  end  of  this  dis- 
cussion of  the  medieval  tradition;  this  is  some  account  of  the  growth 
of  Chaucer's  reputation.  At  the  beginning  of  the  century  he  is 
named  always  in  conjunction  with  Gower  and  Lydgate,  and,  as 
we  have  seen  in  Hawes  and  Caxton,  with  the  preference  given  to 
Lydgate.  He  it  is  that  to  the  writers  of  the  early  sixteenth  cen- 
tury is  the  model  and  the  great  exemplar.  At  the  end  of  the  cen- 
tury, however,  both  Lydgate  and  Gower  have  faded  into  mere 
satellites  of  Chaucer,  and  it  is  he  that  Spenser  acclaims  as  his  poetic 
progenitor.  This  change  may  be  explained  by  the  growth  in  lit- 
erary appreciation,  that  the  genius  of  Spenser  overleaped  the 
centuries  to  recognize  the  genius  of  Chaucer.  It  is  also  due  to  the 
fact  that  of  the  three  authors  Chaucer's  works  were  alone  accessible 
in  a  collected  edition.  Thus,  to  a  student  of  Chaucer,  the  Thynne 
edition,  1532,  of  the  collected  works  is  a  fact  of  great  importance, 

*  Faerie  Queene,  V,  xi. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  117 

although  of  course  a  number  of  the  separate  works  had  been  printed 
earlier  in  a  number  of  editions.  This  collected  edition  was  reprinted 
in  1542,  and  again  about  1550.  In  1561  appeared  the  edition  called 
after  Stowe  the  antiquary,  and  in  1598  the  edition  of  Speght.  Thus 
without  there  being  any  collected  edition  of  the  works  of  either 
Gower  or  Lydgate,  there  were  five  editions  of  Chaucer's  complete 
works.  It  is  in  the  second  of  these  that  The  Plowman's  Tale  ap- 
pears for  the  first  time.  This  was  composed  by  a  contemporary  of 
Chaucer  about  1395.^  Speght's  edition  was  followed  by  a  criti- 
cism of  it  from  the  hand  of  Francis  Thynne,  the  son  of  the  old 
editor.  In  this  he  tells  how  his  father  ransacked  the  abbeys  for 
Chaucer  manuscripts  and  found  another  poem,  The  Pilgrim's 
Tale.    Of  this  he  tells  the  following  curious  anecdote.^ 

In  whiche  his  editione,  belnge  printed  but  with  one  coolume  in  a  syde,  there  was 
the  pilgrymes  tale,  a  thinge  moore  odious  to  the  Clergye,  then  the  speche  of  the 
plowmanne;  that  pilgrimes  tale  begynnynge  in  this  sorte: 

"  In  Lincolneshyre  fast  by  a  fenne, 
Standes  a  relligious  howse  who  dothe 
yt  kenne,"  &c. 

In  this  tale  did  Chaucer  most  bitterlye  enveye  against  the  pride,  state,  couetous- 
nes,  and  extorcione  of  the  Bisshoppes,  their  officialls.  Archdeacons,  vicars  generalls, 
comissaryes,  and  other  officers  of  the  spirituall  courte.  The  Inventione  and  order 
whereof  (as  I  haue  herde  yt  related  by  some,  nowe  of  good  worshippe  bothe  in 
courte  and  countrye,  but  then  my  fathers  clerks),  was,  that  one  comynge  into  this 
relligious  howse,  walked  vpp  and  downe  the  churche,  beholdinge  goodlye  pictures  of 
Bysshoppes  in  the  windowes,  at  lengthe  the  manne  contynuynge  in  that  con- 
templatione,  not  knowinge  what  Bishoppes  they  were,  in  a  large  blacke  garment 
girded  vnto  him,  came  forthe  and  asked  hym,  what  he  iudged  of  those  pictures  in 
the  windowes,  who  sayed  he  knewe  not  what  to  make  of  them,  but  that  they  looked 
lyke  vnto  oure  mitred  Bishoppes;  to  whome  the  olde  father  replied,  "yt  is  true,  they 
are  lyke,  but  not  the  same,  for  oure  byshoppes  are  farr  degenerate  from  them,"  and 
withe  that,  made  a  large  discourse  of  the  Bishopps  and  of  their  courtes. 

This  tale,  when  kinge  henrye  the  eighte  had  redde,  he  called  my  father  unto  hym, 
sayinge,  "William  Thynne!  I  dobte  this  will  not  be  allowed;  for  I  suspecte  the 
Byshoppes  will  call  the  in  questione  for  yt."  To  whome  my  father,  beinge  in  great 
fauore  with  his  prince  (as  manye  yet  lyvinge  canne  testyfye),  sayed,  "yf  your  grace 
be  not  offended,  I  hoope  to  be  protected  by  you: "  whereuppon  the  kynge  bydd  hym 
goo  his  waye,  and  feare  not.    All  whiche  not  withstandinge,  my  father  was  called  in 

^  This  is  Skeat's  dating. 

*  Thynne's  Animadvernont  together  with  The  Pilgrim' t  Tale  have  been  edited  for 
the  Chancer  Society  by  Fumival,  with  a  preface  by  Kingsley. 


118  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

questione  by  the  Bysshoppes,  and  heaved  at  by  Cardinal  Wolseye,  his  olde  enymye, 
for  manye  causes,  but  mostly  for  that  my  father  had  furthered  Skelton  to  publishe 
his  'CoUen  Cloute'  against  the  Cardinall,  the  moste  parte  of  whiche  Booke  was 
compiled  in  my  fathers  howse  at  Erithe  in  Kente.  But  for  all  my  fathers  frendes,  the 
Cardinalls  perswadinge  auctorytye  was  so  greate  withe  the  kinge,  that  thoughe  by 
the  kinges  fauor  my  father  escaped  bodelye  daimger,  yet  the  Cardinall  caused  the 
kynge  so  muche  to  myslyke  of  that  tale,  that  chaucer  must  be  newe  printed,  and 
that  discourse  of  the  pilgrymes  tale  lefte  oute;  and  so  beinge  printed  agayne,  some 
thynges  were  forsed  to  be  omitted,  and  the  plowmans  tale  (supposed,  but  vntrulye, 
to  be  made  by  olde  Sir  Thomas  Wyat,  father  to  hym  which  was  executed  in  the 
firste  yere  of  Queue  Marye,  and  not  by  Chaucer)  with  muche  ado  permitted  to 
passe  with  the  reste,  in  suche  sorte  that  in  one  open  parliamente  (as  I  haue  herde 
Sir  Johne  Thynne  reporte,  beinge  then  a  member  of  the  howse),  when  talke  was  had 
of  Bookes  to  be  forbidden,  Chaucer  had  there  for  euer  byn  condempned,  had  yt  not 
byn  that  his  woorkes  had  byn  counted  but  fables." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  neither  the  PhwmarCs  Tale  nor  the  Pilgrim's 
Tale  appears  in  the  1532  edition.  Nor,^  from  its  allusions  to  the 
Lincolnshire  insurrection  of  1536  and  even  by  page  and  line  to  the 
Thynne  edition  of  Chaucer,  could  it  have  ever  been  considered  in 
that  connection.  Nor  is  Thynne's  account  of  the  contents  of  the 
tale  quite  accurate.  Probably,  as  Professor  Lounsbury  suggests, 
Thynne  confused  it  with  the  PlowmarCs  Tale.  But  the  Pilgrim's 
Tale  was  printed  before  1540.  And  moreover,  whatever  may  have 
been  the  name  on  the  title-page,  in  the  body  of  the  poem  not  only 
is  Chaucer  quoted,  but  in  addition  at  the  end  it  is  intimated  that 
Chaucer's  opinions  are  identified  with  those  expressed  there.  When 
it  is  remembered  that  Thynne  is  telling  of  events  that  happened 
half  a  century  earlier,  and  which  confessedly  he  knows  only  by 
report,  it  is  possible  that  there  is  the  additional  confusion  of  Wol- 
sey  with  Cromwell,  and  that  the  objector  was  the  Malleus  Mon- 
achorum.  In  this  case,  the  objection  would  be  purely  one  of  pol- 
icy. On  the  other  hand  the  traditional  enmity  of  Wolsey  with  his 
father  is  probably  accurate  as  well  as  the  very  interesting  reason 
given  for  it.  Actually  the  Pilgrim's  Tale  is  an  invective  against 
**the  Whore  of  Babylon,*'  reiterating  the  stock  charges,  and  ad- 
vocating the  reading  of  the  Bible.  It  is  the  conventional  poem  of 
the  Reformers.  Its  verse  form  is  the  octosyllabic  couplet  varied 
by  nineteen  stanzas  in  rime-royal.  The  significant  fact  here  is 
that  it  is  Chaucer  that  is  chosen  as  the  literary  prototype.    The 

1  This  was  shown  by  Henry  Bradshaw  and  confirmed  by  Lounsbury. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  TRADITION  119 

very  lack  of  an  imitative  attempt,  the  freedom  from  any  pretence 
at  literary  archaism,  seems  to  show  that  Chaucer  was  valued  rather 
as  a  propogandist  than  as  a  poet.  At  Oxford,  (the  author  is  care- 
ful to  state  that  he  is  an  Oxonian),  as  well  as  in  Parliament,  Chau- 
cer's works  were  read  from  a  religious  standpoint.  But  apparently 
they  were  read.  And  thus  in  a  manner  that  would  surprise  no  one 
more  than  Chaucer  himself,  his  poems  were  accepted  as  being 
those  of  our  first  English  author,  and  his  influence  passed  on  to 
the  coming  generation. 


CHAPTER  in 


THE  SCHOLASTIC   TRADITION 


The  starting  point  for  an  understanding  of  the  development  of 
English  poetry  in  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  the  fact 
that  the  change  in  the  pronunciation  of  the  language  between  four- 
teen hundred  and  fifteen  hundred  to  a  measure  broke  the  continuity 
in  the  development  of  the  literature.  Ordinarily  the  movement 
is  gradual,  each  writer  introducing  modifications  in  themselves 
slight,  but  the  cumulative  effect  of  which,  after  half  a  century, 
becomes  apparent  in  what  is  called  a  "new  school. "  At  that  time, 
however,  not  only  had  the  change  in  the  language  rendered  former 
authors,  such  as  Chaucer  and  Lydgate,  unavailable  as  models, 
but  also  the  demand  for  literary  productions  was  great.  With  the 
Tudors  was  bom  a  new  age. 

The  writers  of  this  new  age  were  in  a  curious  situation.  They 
could  either  adapt  forms  written  in  Middle  English,  which  was 
fast  being  forgotten,  or  they  could  imitate  forms  used  in  other 
languages  than  English.  Naturally  the  dilemma  did  not  present 
itself  to  them  as  sharply  defined  as  this.  In  trying  to  express 
themselves  they  took  what  forms  they  had,  and  did  the  best 
they  could  with  them.  And  the  form  chosen  depended  both  upon 
what  the  especial  occasion  required  and  upon  the  knowledge  and 
preference  of  the  writer.  They  wrote  as  best  they  knew.  On  the 
other  hand,  that  they  were  limited  to  the  alternatives  of  the 
dilemma,  owing  to  the  change  in  pronunciation,  was  felt  by  many 
of  them  and  is  clear  to  us.  No  one  author,  either,  was  limited 
to  one  kind  of  composition.  Skelton,  for  example,  has  one  poem 
in  accordance  with  the  practice  of  the  medieval  tradition,  he  shows 
a  knowledge  of  humanism,  and  yet  his  characteristic  work  is  in 
still  another  field,  that  of  medieval,  scholastic  Latin;  Hawes  is 
affected  by  the  scholastic  theory  of  the  "aureate  language,"  but 
his  work  is  along  the  lines  of  the  medieval  tradition.  And  so  with 
the  others.  The  condition  is  what  is  to  be  expected  in  an  era  of 
beginnings,  when  each  writer  is  feeling  his  way  to  a  maimer  of 

120 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  121 

expression  suitable  to  his  idea.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  also  true 
that  each  writer  had  his  preferences  for  the  kind  of  work  that  he 
wished  to  do,  preferences  sufficiently  marked  to  allow  him  to  be 
classed  with  others  having  the  same  characteristics.  The  first  of 
these  classes  includes  poems  of  the  medieval  tradition;  ^  the  second, 
those  poems  written  in  accordance  with  the  precepts  of  the  Medie- 
val Latin  poetics. 

The  difficulty  in  discussing  poems  of  this  second  class  arises 
from  the  fact  that  the  Medieval  Latin  poetics  and  the  Medieval 
Latin  poems  illustrating  them  have  been  so  largely  forgotten. 
Latin  poetry  to  us  means  the  Latin  poetry  of  Rome,  the  work  of 
Vergil,  or  Horace,  poems  to  be  scanned  according  to  well-known 
rules  carefully  studied  by  us  in  school.  Today,  when  we  speak 
of  Latin  poetry,  that  is  what  we  mean.  Of  course  we  all  know  of 
the  decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  of  the  invasions  of  the 
barbarians,  of  the  emergence  of  modern  nationalities,  of  the 
institutions  of  feudalism,  etc.,  etc.,  but  most  of  us  are  ignorant  of 
what  happened  to  the  Latin  language  during  this  long  interval. 
We  still  allude  to  it  in  the  terms  of  the  past  as  being  "monkish" 
Latin,  or  "barbarous"  Latin,  and  assume  it  to  have  been  used 
only  by  simple,  uncultivated,  unlearned  men.  But  however  their 
works  may  be  regarded,  they  surely  cannot  be  considered  "naive." 
Albertus  Magnus,  Abelard,  Saint  Bernard,  or  Saint  Thomas 
Aquinas  can  be  thought  of  as  unlearned  only  by  those  that  dis- 
like their  learning.  And  surely  no  one  now  imagines  that  the 
great  cathedrals  were  haphazard  constructions,  or  assumes  that 
the  architects  of  them  were  not  acutely  conscious  of  the  effect 
to  be  produced.  The  same  holds  true  of  the  literature.  Since 
literature,  more  than  any  other  art,  expresses  the  soul  of  an  age, 
the  poetry  of  the  Middle  Ages  expresses  the  idealism,  the  acute- 
ness,  the  mysticism  and  brutality  of  the  men  that  wrote  it. 

The  medium  through  which  much  of  the  Middle  Ages  expressed 
itself  was  Medieval  Latin.  In  form  it  differs  radically  from 
classical  Latin;  its  prosody  is  accentual,  not  quantitative.  In 
classical  Latin  the  scansion  is  determined  by  the  length  of  the 
syllables;  this  length,  in  turn,  is  in  accordance  with  the  complicated 
rules  of  prosody.  For  example,  in  the  phrase  "arma  virumque 
cano, "  the  first  a  is  long  by  position  and  the  second  a  is  short  by 

1  Chapter  U. 


122  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

nature  so  that,  in  reading,  the  first  syllable  has  twice  the  value  of 
the  second.  Such  rules  as  these  do  not  hold  in  Medieval  Latin. 
Here  the  value  of  a  syllable  depends  upon  the  stress.  The  first 
line  of  the  most  famous  medieval  hymn  is 

Dies  irse,  dies  ilia 

But  according  to  the  rules  for  the  scansion  of  classical  Latin  the 
quantities  are 

Dies  irae,  dies  Ilia 

It  is  clear  that  the  two  systems  of  prosody  are  so  different  that 
poems  composed  according  to  one  system  cannot  be  scanned 
according  to  the  other,  except  in  rare  cases.  When  it  is  added 
that  the  Medieval  Latin  poetry  is  rimed,  a  kind  of  poetry  appears 
that  differs  fundamentally  from  that  in  classical  Latin. 

The  reason  for  so  radical  a  change  in  the  system  of  verse-com- 
position is  a  problem  for  the  Latinists.  Briefly,  it  may  be  said 
that  at  one  time,  before  Ennius,  the  Latin  language  was  both 
quantitative  and  accentual,  and  that  Greek  influence  turned  the 
scale  in  favor  of  the  quantitative  system.  In  the  hands  of  the 
great  classic  writers,  verse  obeying  the  rules  of  quantity  is  the 
accepted  form.  Yet,  even  in  classical  times,  the  Saturnian  and 
Fescennine  verses  show  accentual  prosody.  To  the  English 
reader  the  situation  may  be  clarified  by  the  analogy  in  the  history 
of  our  own  literature.  The  meter  of  all  early  English  poetry  is 
alliterative,  the  characteristics  of  which  are  that  every  long  line 
is  divided  into  two  short  lines  or  half-lines  by  a  pause;  each  half- 
line  contains  two  or  more  strong  syllables;  each  strong  syllable  in 
a  line  should  begin  with  the  same  sound  and  there  is  no  rime. 
This  system  can  be  illustrated  by  the  opening  verses  of  the  Pro- 
logue to  Piers  Plovyman.    The  rime-letters  are  italicised. 

In  a  »6mer  ses6n  whan  «6f  t  was  the  *6nne, 
I  «A6pe  me  in  »Ar6udes  as  I  a  «A6pe  w6re. 
In  Adbite  as  an  A^remite  unA61y  of  w6rkes 
W^nt  uyde  in  this  w6rld  to6ndres  to  h6re. 

About  the  fourteenth  century  under  continental  influences  poetry 
was  written  according  to  an  accentual  rimed  prosody.  This  has 
superseded  the  alliterative  method  of  versification  so  that  the 
latter  seems  strange  to  modern  readers.    Nevertheless,  our  ears 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  123 

respond  to  the  lure  of  subtle  alliteration,  and  our  poets  play  with 
it.  Hear  the  sounds  Shakespeare  uses  to  describe  Cleopatra's 
meeting  with  Anthony :  ^ 

The  barge  she  sat  in,  like  a  bumish'd  throne, 

Bum'd  on  the  water.    The  poop  was  beaten  gold; 

Purple  the  sails,  and  so  perfumed  that 

The  winds  were  love-sick  with  them.    The  oars  were  silver, 

Which  to  the  tune  of  flutes  kept  stroke,  and  made 

The  water  which  they  beat  to  follow  faster. 

As  amorous  of  their  strokes. 

Surely  this  passage  owes  it  celebrity  to  a  clever  repetition  of  cer- 
tain letters.  Now  suppose  in  the  distant  future,  for  reasons 
impossible  to  foresee,  English  prosody  should  return  to  an  al- 
literative basis.  In  that  case  the  analogy  with  what  happened 
in  Latin  prosody  would  be  complete.  In  Latin  the  return  from 
the  quantitative  to  the  accentual  prosody  came  with  the  fall  of 
Rome  and  was  at  least  concomitant  with  the  introduction  of 
music  in  the  services  of  the  Church.  The  fact  that  the  very  early 
chants  consist  of  a  series  of  half  notes,  terminated  by  a  whole  note, 
renders  the  quantitative  value  of  each  syllable  equal.  When 
quarter  notes  were  introduced  to  quicken  the  measure,  the  poets 
placed  the  strength  where  the  accent  came.  With  the  waxing 
power  of  the  Church  Latin  prosody  became  accentual  until  the 
versification  of  the  classic  authors  was  largely  forgotten.  It  was 
not  completely  forgotten,  since  all  through  the  Middle  Ages 
occasionally  poems  were  composed  according  to  the  quantitative 
principles  ^  and  even  in  accentual  poems  quantity  was  not  entirely 
ignored.  In  general,  however,  it  must  be  remembered  that  a  vast 
amount  of  poetry  was  written  in  Latin  according  to  principles 
unknown  to  Horace. 

The  amount  of  the  literature  shows  that  this  Medieval  Latin 
poetry  possessed  great  influence.  When  the  various  vernaculars 
were  in  dialectic  stages,  before  any  vernacular  had  established 
itself  as  a  national  expression,  men  found  in  the  Latin  a  medium  of 
communication,  not  only  between  members  of  their  own  nation, 
but  also  with  men  of  other  nations.    Consequently  it  was  universal, 

'  Anthony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  II,  so.  ii. 

'llie  reader  is  referred  for  examples  to  Pcrta  Latini  JBvi  Carolini,  edited  by 
Emeatus  Duemler. 


124  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

as  no  language  is  today.  Nor  was  it  in  any  sense  a  dead  language. 
It  was  the  vital  speech  of  the  educated.  As  such,  all  the  lectures 
at  all  the  universities  were  delivered  in  it, — and  the  Englishman 
at  Paris  or  at  Padua  comprehended  the  speaker  as  well  as  if  he 
were  in  Oxford.  This  fact  explains  the  possibiUty  of  a  personal 
following  so  great  as  that  of  Ab61ard.  It  was  due  to  Latin  that  he 
was  able  to  make  his  thought  clear  to  the  men  of  all  nations  that 
flocked  to  hear  him  in  Paris.  In  Latin  he  spoke  to  the  ItaUan,  the 
Spaniard,  the  German,  the  Bohemian,  the  Hungarian,  the  English- 
man, and  the  Frenchman,  and  by  each  he  was  perfectly  under- 
stood.^ But  not  only  was  it  the  language  of  the  university,  it  was 
also  the  language  of  the  universal  Church.  And  as  the  Church 
was  the  great  conservative  force,  the  unchanging  center  of  a 
changing  worid,  its  language  was  to  a  very  large  extent  free  from 
earthly  transmutations.  Thus  to  the  EngUsh  author  of  the  tenth 
century  writing  in  Latin,  was  present  the  expectation  that  his 
work  could  be  read  with  a  fullness  of  meaning,  not  only  by  all  men 
of  every  nationality  of  the  tenth  century,  but  by  all  the  men  of 
every  nationality  of  all  time. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  is  no  matter  for  wonder  that  there 
exists  an  immense  literature  written  in  the  Medieval  Latin. 
Through  the  ages  accumulated  the  hymns  of  the  Church,^  deal- 
ing with  every  variety  of  religious  emotion  and  religious  ex- 
perience. Among  these,  there  are  some  compositions  in  which 
religious  eroticism  is  scarcely  to  be  differentiated  from  secular 
love  poetry,  so  that  the  passing  from  the  holy  to  the  profane 
is  clearly  easy.  Certainly  that  passage  was  made.  The  forms 
and  refrains  of  the  ecclesiastical  services  were  copied  and  parodied 
in  poems  whose  content  does  not  at  all  suggest  their  original 
models.  Bands  of  wandering  students  sang  the  praises  of  Venus 
and  Bacchus  with  more  enthusiasm  than  restraint.  Still  more, 
the  Latin  of  the  Church  was  used  to  attack  the  abuses  of  the 
Church  and  the  so-called  Goliardic  poetry  is  openly  satiric.  Con- 
sequently within  the  bounds  of  Medieval  Latin  literature  may  be 
found  types  of  all  varieties  of  composition. 

Fortunately  it  does  not  he  within  the  province  of  this  study  to 

^  Of  course  this  use  of  Latin  by  the  University  is  still  remembered  in  the  name, 
the  Latin  Quarter. 

^  Dreves'  monumental  Analecta  Hymnica  is  in  half  a  hundred  volumes. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  125 

discuss  the  origin  of  this  literature  or  the  interaction  between  it  and 
the  various  vernaculars  during  the  early  centuries.  The  problem 
here  is  quite  diflFerent.  During  the  fifteenth  century,  particu- 
larly during  the  closing  years,  the  comparison  between  Medieval 
Latin  and  Enghsh  was  very  unfair.  For,  not  only  was  the  Latin 
more  copious,  but  in  addition  the  theory  of  composition  in  it 
had  been  worked  out  to  the  last  refinement.  For  example,  the 
Exempla  honestae  vitae  consciously  employs  sixty-four  rhetorical 
devices,  giving  the  name  to  each,  such  devices  as  anaphora, 
epiphora,  symploke,  antithesis,  rhetorical  question,  polysyndeton, 
asyndeton,  word-play,  climax,  hyperbole,  synecdoche,  metaphor, 
allegory,  etc.,  etc.^  It  is  thus  a  textbook  for  the  use  of  rhetorical 
figures,  vastly  more  detailed,  however,  than  even  the  English 
rhetorics  of  a  century  ago.  The  fact  that  the  composition  dates 
from  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century,  while  the  manuscript 
is  of  the  fourteenth,  is  indicative  of  its  popularity.  The  fourth 
book  of  the  Laborinttis,  not  earlier  than  the  thirteenth  century, 
gives  twenty-eight  examples  of  various  stanza-forms.^  John  of 
Garlandia,  1250,  lists  forty -four  species  of  stanza-forms.  Since  it  is 
necessary  to  realize  to  what  an  extent  this  subject  had  been  con- 
sidered, I  shall  quote  the  summary  at  the  end  of  his  Ars  Rithmica.^ 

Ritmus  monomicus. 
Dispondeus. 
Trispondeus. 
Tetraspmndeus  bimembris. 

"  trimembris. 

"  quadrimembrifl. 

Rithmus  iambicus  bimembris. 
"  trimembris. 

"  quadrimembris. 

Dispondeus  bimembris         cum  iambica  differentia. 

"         trimembris  "         "  " 

"         quadrimembris      "         "  " 

"         antecedens,  iambica  differentia  in  secundo. 
Iambica  differentia  antecedens  dispondaica  differentia  in  secundo. 

^  The  Exempla  honesta  vita  is  published  with  notes  and  an  introduction  by  EVlwin 
Habel,  Romanische  Forschungen,  xxix,  131-154. 

'  /  trattali  medievali  di  rilmica  laiina,  ed.  by  Giovanni  Mari,  for  the  R.  Institute 
Lombardo  di  Scienze  e  Lettere,  1899.  In  this,  by  giving  eight  of  the  poetical 
tracts,  Sig.  Mari  has  made  possible  careful  study.  I  owe  thb  reference  to  the  kind- 
ness of  Professor  H.  R.  Lang.  *  Mari,  op.  cit.  451. 


126  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Trispondeus  bimembris  cum  iambica  differentia  in  tertio. 

"  trimembris  "  "  "  "  quarto. 

"         quadrimembris   "  "  "  "  dyapente. 

"         antecedens,  iambica,  differentia  subsequens. 
Iambica  differentia  antecedens  trispondaica  differentia  subsequens. 
Tetraspondaicus  bimembris         cum  iambica  differentia. 
"  trimembris  "         "  " 

"  quadrimembris      "         "  " 

"  antecedens  iambica  differentia  subsequens. 

Iambica  differentia  antecedens,  tetraspondaica  subsequens. 
Rithmus  iambicus  bimembris  cum  spondaica  differentia  in  tertio. 

"  "         trimembris  "  "  "  "  quarto. 

'*  "        quadrimembris      "  "  "  "  dyapente. 

"  "        antecedeno,  spondaicus  subsequens. 

Spondaicus  antecedens,  iambicus  subsequens. 
Iambicus  decasillabus  qualis  est  ille  rithmus. 

Dispondaicus  bimembris  cum  consonancia  spondaica  que  facit  differentiam. 

trimembris  "  "  "  "       " 

"  quadrimembris      "  "  " 

"  antecedens,  consonancia  spondaica  subsequens. 

Trispondaicus  bimembris  cum  consonancia  spondaica. 

"  trimembris  "  "  " 

"  quadrimembris      "  "  " 

"  antecedens,  consonancia  spondaica  subsequens. 

Tetraspondaicus  bimembris  cum  consonancia  spondaica. 

"  trimembris  "  "  " 

**  quadrimembris      "  "  " 

antecedens,  consonancia  spondaica  subsequens. 
Rithmus  trispondaicus  cum  iambica  differentia  subsequente  facit,  duas  species 

tredecim  sillabarum.    Sic  erunt  quadraginta  quatuor. 
Perfecto  libra  ait  laus  et  gloria  Christo.    Amen, 

In  other  tracts,  the  prosody  of  the  line  is  considered,  and  the 
proper  vocabulary  to  be  used,  or  the  proper  introduction  of  a 
quotation,  or  even  the  employment  of  curious  verbal  tricks.  The 
effect  of  such  treatises  as  these  upon  the  modern  reader  is  bewilder- 
ing. The  art  of  verse  had  become  a  science;  poetry  was  an  affair, 
not  of  the  heart,  but  of  the  head;  it  is  not  an  emotional  outburst, 
so  much  as  an  intellectual  exercise.  As  an  intellectual  exercise, 
it  was  taught  in  the  university,  a  degree  given  for  proficiency  in 
its  practice,  and  the  question  debated  as  to  its  place  in  the  cur- 
riculum. Consequently  such  treatises  as  we  have  been  discussing 
were  written  by  serious  men  for  serious  men,  and  the  technique 
of  the  subject,  therefore,  received  careful  consideration. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  127 

At  the  very  least,  when  a  man  is  equally  proficient  in  two  lan- 
guages, there  is  a  reaction  upon  his  use  of  each  language,  even  when 
both  languages  are  in  the  same  state  of  development.  The  Eng- 
lish of  the  child  bom  in  America  of  German  parents  that  speaks 
German  as  his  home  tongue,  can  be  clearly  distinguished  from  the 
norm.  Even  in  this  extreme  case  there  is  a  trace  of  accent  and  a 
tendency  toward  Teutonic  grammatical  construction.  But  in  the 
fifteenth  century  there  was  no  comparison  between  the  develop- 
ment of  Latin  and  that  of  English.  On  the  one  side  the  English 
language  was  in  a  chaotic  condition,  with  but  few  poems  to  serve 
for  models,  and  no  systematic  theory;  ^  on  the  other.  Medieval 
Latin  had  a  vast  and  varied  literature,  a  long  list  of  venerated 
authors,  and  a  fully  perfected  theory.  Moreover,  since  Medieval 
Latin  is  both  accentual  and  rimed,  the  similarity  in  structure 
made  it  possible  to  apply  the  precepts  for  the  composition  of  verse 
in  Medieval  Latin  to  the  composition  of  verse  in  English. 

But  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  influence  of  Medieval  Latin 
on  English  was  on  the  form  only.  The  situation  is  confusing, 
because  in  1500  with  the  revival  of  classical  Latin,  which  is  called 
humanism,  there  is  the  influence  of  two  literatures  on  EngUsh  and 
yet  both  of  these  literatures  are  in  the  same  language,  Latin.  Yet 
they  are  diametrically  opposed,  in  both  form  and  content.  The 
classical  Latin  is  pagan,  quantitative,  and  unrimed;  ^  the  Medieval 
Latin  is  Christian,  accentual,  and  rimed.  And  whereas  classical 
Latin  is  national  and  local,  singing  the  pride  of  Rome,  Medieval 
Latin  is  necessarily  without  national  values,  and  hymns  the  pride 
of  the  universal  Church.  Consequently  whereas  the  contact  with 
classical  Latin  had  a  very  minor  effect  upon  the  form  of  poetry,  but 
did  give  an  immense  intellectual  stimulus,  the  contact  with  Medi- 
eval Latin  gave  a  minor  intellectual  stimulus,  but  immensely  affect- 
ed poetic  forms.  Nor  could  it  be  expected  to  give  a  fresh  point  of 
view.  The  men  writing  in  Medieval  Latin  were  the  same  men 
writing  in  the  vernaculars,  expressing  only  individual  modifications 
of  the  common  thought.   Thus  a  translation  from  Medieval  Latin 

'  Wilson's  The  Rule  of  Reeuon,  1551;  "I  take  not  upon  me  so  cunningly  and  per- 
fectile  to  haue  written  of  the  said  arte,  as  though  none  could  dooe  it  better;  But  be- 
cause no  Englishman  until  now.  hath  gone  through  with  this  enterprise,  I  haue 
thought  meet  to  declare  it  may  be  dooen."    His  Arte  of  Wietorique  is  two  years  later. 

*  The  influence  of  humanism  is  considered  in  Chapter  iv. 


128  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

to  English  bears  no  mark  of  a  foreign  origin.  This  may  be  illus- 
trated easily  from  the  hynmal.  Today  our  churches  resound  with 
hymns  originally  composed  to  voice  the  longing  of  cloistered  monks 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  our  modem  congregations  find  in  them  still 
a  passionate  expression  of  their  own  perfect  faith.  It  may  be  ob- 
jected that  this  illustration  is  unfair  because  it  is  drawn  from  re- 
ligious emotion.  The  same  fact  may  be  shown,  however,  in  purely 
profane  literature.  In  the  time  of  Charlemagne,  the  conflictus, 
a  poetic  debate  between  representative,  or  allegorical,  figures 
became  popular.  From  this  time  its  popularity,  since  it  com- 
bined in  itself  the  diverse  elements  of  the  classical  eclogue,  the 
chants  de  danse,  the  village  fly  ting,  etc.,  continued  with  increasing 
vigor,^  until  it  became  a  definite  type.  For  example,  the  first 
part  of  Hawes'  Example  of  Virtue  belongs  to  this  tyj)e.  The  popu- 
larity of  these  conflicttis  was  both  very  great  and  long  enduring. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  ninth  century  Alcuin  composed  a  conflictus, 
Veris  et  hiemis,  where  in  stanzas  of  three  unrimed  lines  Summer 
and  Winter  personified  advance  their  peculiar  attractions.^  In 
the  middle  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII  Laurens  Andrews  published 
The  Debate  and  Stryfe  Betwene  Somer  and  Wynter,  in  four  lined 
monorimed  stanzas.^  Between  these  dates,  in  the  six  hundred 
years  of  the  life  of  this  conception,  besides  unknown  Medieval 
Latin  redactions,  there  are  three  French  versions,  a  Grenoese,  a 
Dutch,  and  a  Styrian  copy,  and  presumably  this  by  no  means  ex- 
hausts the  list.*  Thus  the  whole  subject  of  the  conflictus  is  a  tangled 
sleave;  it  originates  in  the  Latin,  developing  in  the  vernaculars, 
reacting  back  upon  the  Latin  and  re-reacting  back  upon  the  ver- 
naculars, and  in  the  vernaculars  influencing  one  another.  The 
next  obvious  step  was  to  have  a  dialogue  where  the  parties  gave  op- 
posing views,  but  were  themselves  not  personified,  such  as  appears 
in  the  Thrush  and  the  Nightingale,  and  Thomas  Feilde's  Lover  and  a 
Jay.    Hawes'  dialogues  between  Amour  and  Pucel  are  just  on  the 

^  This  has  been  ably  discussed  by  James  Holly  Hanford,  Romanic  Review,  ii, 
no.  1  and  2. 

*Alcuin*s  work  is  published  in  the  Monumenta  Germania  Historica,  Pceta 
Latini  Medii  Aevi,  Vol.  i;  The  Conflictus  Veris  et  hiemis  is  p.  270. 

*  This  has  been  printed  by  Halliwell,  Hazlitt  {Early  Popular  Poetry  of  England, 
iii,  29,  and  by  Arber  in  the  Surrey  and  Wyait  Anthology,  p.  206. 

*  I  have  taken  this  list  from  a  note  of  M.  Emile  Picot,  Andennes  Poesies  Fran- 
qaises.  X,  49. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  129 

border  line,  while  the  Nutbrovme  Maid  is  the  extreme  development. 
In  the  last,  dramatic  action  is  almost  suggested,  a  fact  that  shows 
the  relation  of  this  type  of  poem  to  the  early  fonns  of  the  drama. 
For  example,  in  the  Consultatio  Sacredotum  the  question  is  first 
posed,  twenty  men  each  reply  in  a  stanza,  and  then  the  summary 
is  given  by  the  preacher.^  Obviously  this  is  but  one  remove  from 
the  form  of  the  early  dramas.  The  relation  between  the  Medieval 
Latin  and  the  English  is  always  close;  even  through  the  sixteenth 
century  English  versions  of  these  Latin  poems,  such  as  the  Golias 
attacks,  occasionally  appear,  and  are  considered  as  being  products 
of  native  genius.^  Theoretically,  therefore,  the  English  writers 
of  the  late  fifteenth  and  early  sixteenth  centuries,  in  search  of 
models  would  normally  turn  to  the  Medieval  Latin. 

That  this  was  the  actual  as  well  as  the  theoretic  sequence,  at 
least  in  one  case,  is  shown  in  the  poem  The  epitaffe  of  the  Moste 
noble  and  valyaunt  Jasper  late  Duke  of  Beddeforde.^  It  purports 
to  record  the  lament  of  "Smerte,  maister  de  ses  ouzeaus"  on  ac- 
count of  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Bedford  (1495).  As  the  sole 
remaining  copy  has  Pynson's  device,  its  date  of  publication  is 
probably  sUghtly  later.  What  makes  it  remarkable  is  neither  the 
sincerity  of  the  grief,  nor  the  poetic  excellence  of  the  phrase;  it 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  twenty  metres  employed  and  the  various 
rhetorical  tricks  are  explained  by  side-notes,  in  Latin.  As  these 
side-notes  refer  obviously  to  rhetorical  treatises,  the  poem  may  be 
regarded  as  a  series  of  experiments,  each  of  which  is  differentiated 
and  labelled.  To  comprehend  what  the  author  of  this  poem  desired 
to  accomplish  it  is  necessary  to  refer  back  to  the  medieval  rhetorics. 

Although  it  is  impossible  definitely  to  state  exactly  which  treat- 
ises were  in  use  in  England  in  the  fifteenth  century,  this  fact  is  of 
minor  consequence  since  all  the  treatises  give,  under  slightly  vary- 
ing phraseology,  more  or  less  the  same  dicta.^  The  immediate 
problem,  then,  is  first  to  formulate  the  principles  of  the  Medieval 

1  Poems  of  Walter  Mapes,  Camden  Society,  ed.  Wright,  p.  174. 

*Thia  U  shown  by  the  heading  of  the  English  translation,  "written  about  the 
year  1623."  "Very  ancient  rimes  of  the  corrupt  estate  of  the  Churche,  written  by 
a  certaine  Englishman  not  unlearned  (as  it  appears),  above  200  yeeres  agone,  as 
wee  may  unjecture  by  the  antiquity  of  the  writing  and  of  the  characters."  Poenu 
qf  Walter  Mapes,  op.  cii.,  p.  282. 

»  Printed  in  the  App.  of  Dyce's  Skelton,  ii,  888. 

«  Cf .  Mari,  op.  eU.,  p.  374,  §  3. 


130  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Latin,  and  afterwards  to  show  in  each  case  its  application  to  Eng- 
lish verse.  Of  these  there  are  three  that  need  extended  comment, 
the  principles  of  ornamentation,  of  scansion  of  the  lines,  and  of 
the  combination  of  lines  into  stanza  forms. 

By  the  word  ornamentation  I  have  translated  the  Latin  colores, 
a  good  Ciceronian  word.    Thus  the  Exampla  honesiae  viiae  begins 

Rethoricos  a  me  peiis,  o  dilecte,  colores; 
Eloquit  phaleras  a  Cicerone  petas. 

The  same  word  is  brought  into  English  by  Hawes; 

But  rude  people,  opprest  with  blyndnes, 
Agaynst  your  fables  wyll  often  solisgyse, 
Suche  is  theyr  mynde,  such  is  theyr  folyshnes; 
For  they  beleve  in  no  maner  of  wyse 
That  under  a  colour  a  trouth  may  aryse. 
For  folysh  people,  blynded  in  a  matter 
Will  often  erre  whan  they  of  it  do  clatter.^ 

Under  this  conveniently  vague  heading,  are  grouped  all  figures  of 
speech,  such  as  antithesis,  rhetorical  question,  et  al.  As,  however, 
such  figures  of  speech  are  by  no  means  the  peculiarity  of  verse, 
Nicolo  Tibino  insists  correctly  that  a  consideration  of  them  be- 
longs properly  to  rhetoric,  not  to  poetics.^  As  such,  there  is  no 
need  to  linger  here.  The  significant  fact  to  be  recognized  is  that 
in  the  Latin  the  Englishman  found  all  of  these  figures  of  speech 
explained  and  examples  of  their  use.  He  thus  had  inherited  a 
most  elaborate  and  self-conscious  system  of  rhetoric. 

With  the  second  variety  of  colores,  however,  the  modern  reader 
will  find  himself  much  less  familiar.  This  consists  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  words  so  distorted  from  their  natural  order  that  a  desired 
eflfect  may  be  produced.  The  simplest  form  of  this  is  the  anagram, 
where  the  first  letter  of  the  first  word  in  each  line  spells  a  name. 
Such  is  the  Envoy  of  Alison,^  or  the  stanza  in  the  Ship  of  Fooles,^ 

'  P.  of  P.  Cap.  ix.  See  page  108  where  the  passage  is  cited  in  full.  The  N.  E.  D., 
giving  this  passage,  explains  colour  as  fiction,  allegory;  actually  the  meaning  is  more 
"poetic  beauty,"  one  of  which  is  allegory.  Compare  the  word  odours  as  used  by 
Wilson  in  the  passage  quoted  p.  142. 

'  Mari,  op.  cit.,  p.  469.  Rethorica  enim  nil  plus  facit  nisi  quod  orationea  variis 
coloribus  ac  congruis  exomat,  prolixas  breviando,  correptas  producendo. 

»  Skeafs  Chaucer,  vii,  360.    Quoted  p.  139. 

*  Jamieson's  edition,  ii,  208. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  131 

eulogizing  James  of  Scotland.  But  really  to  appreciate  what  is 
possible  in  this  type  of  work,  one  must  turn  back  to  the  poetic 
efforts  of  the  pious  monks,  where  not  only  the  first  letters  spell  a 
holy  thought  but  the  final  letters,  and  by  means  of  careful  selec- 
tion of  medial  letters,  fancy  patterns,  such  as  crosses,  diamonds, 
and  squares,  are  outlined  in  the  stanza  itself.  The  amount  of 
ingenuity  required  predicates  a  time  of  infinite  leisure.  Somewhat 
higher  in  the  grade  of  poetic  achievement  may  be  ranked  the  color 
repetitio}   This  repetition  may  be  at  the  beginning,  as  in  Hawes;  ^ 

Woe  worth  sin  without  repentance! 
Woe  worth  bondage  without  release! 

or  it  may  be  at  the  end,  as  in  Barclay;  ^  where  four  stanzas  end, 
shame  doth  the  ensue;  or  it  may  be  a  combination  of  them  both,* 
as  in  the  following  instance: 

O  sorrowe,  sorrowe  beyonde  all  sorowes  sure! 
All  sorrowes  sure  surmountynge,  lo! 
Lo,  which  payne  no  pure  may  endure. 
Endure  may  none  such  dedely  wo! 
Wo,  alas,  ye  in  wrapped,  for  he  is  go! 
Go  is  he,  whose  valyaunce  to  recounte. 
To  recounte,  all  other  it  dyd  surmounte. 

This  masterpiece  of  ingenuity  is  labelled  by  Smerte  simply  "  Color, 
repetico. "  The  author  here  had  not  only  to  construct  his  stanza 
in  the  rime  royal;  in  addition  the  final  word  of  each  line  must 
begin  the  succeeding.  Naturally  he  succeeds  in  little  more  than 
merely  making  sense.  Another  form,  called  by  Smerte  iterado, 
that  brings  in  the  same  idea  of  repetition,  is  the  traductio  dictionu 
de  casu  in  casum.  In  the  Ciceronian  Epistle  ad  Herennium  it  is 
said  that  traductio  is  the  figure  that  brings  it  about,  that,  when 
the  same  word  is  used  frequently,  not  only  it  does  not  offend  the 
mind,  but  even  makes  the  oration  more  closely  knitted  together.^ 

^  John  of  Garlandia  /  trattaii  medievali,  ed.  Mari,  op.  cit.,  420. 

•  Example  of  Virtue,  Arber,  op.  cit.,  234-5. 
'Jamieson,  op.  cit.,  ii,  164. 

*  Dyce's  Skelion,  ii,  389. 

»  Ad  Herenn.  IV,  14,  20:  Traductio  est,  quae  facit,  uti,  cum  idem  verbum  cre- 
brjus  ponatur,  non  modo  non  offendat  animum,  sed  etiam  concinniorem  oratiorem 
reddaL 


132  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

This  in  the  Exempla  honestae  vitae  is  illustrated  as  follows: 

Grex  illis  cedit,  gregis  hos  custodia  tangit, 
Invigilantque  gregi  multiplicantque  gregem. 

Smerte  version  is : 

Complajrne,  complayne,  who  can  complayne; 
For  I,  alas,  past  am  compleynte! 
To  compleyne  wyt  can  not  sustajTie, 
Deth  me  with  doloure  so  hath  bespraynte. 

The  important  fact  to  remember  here  is  that  a  continuous  rep- 
ition  of  the  same  word  does  not  argue  an  impoverished  vocabulary, 
but  that  it  was  regarded  as  a  poetic  adornment.^  One  more 
illustration  to  show  the  dependence  of  these  writers  on  the  Latin. 
Retrograde  or  transformed  verses  are  such  that  when  read  from 
left  to  right  they  mean  one  thing,  and  from  right  to  left  another.^ 
A  Latin  illustration,  taken  from  John  of  Garlandia,  is 

Esse  decorem  de  te,  presul,  gens  provida  dicii. 

This  read  backward  produces 

Dicit  provida  gens,  presul,  te  dedecorem  esse. 

Smerte  had  also  an  example  of  this. 

Restynge  in  him  was  honoure  with  sadnesse. 
Curtesy,  kyndenesse,  with  great  assurance, 
Dispysynge  vice,  louynge  alway  gladnesse, 
Knyghtly  condicyons,  feythful  alegeaunc^. 
Kyndely  demenoure,  gracyous  vtteraunce; 
Was  none  semelyer,  feture  ne  face; 
Frendely  him  fostered  quatriuial  allaimce; 
Alas,  yet  dede  nowe  arte  thou,  Jaspar,  alas! 

*Tert5us  modus  dicitur  equivocatio,  et  fit  quando  dictator  non  poterit  invenire 
dictionem  consonantem  sue  dictioni;  recipiat  eandem  sub  equivocationem  signifi- 
cations vel  declarationis.  Exemplum  de  primo:  si  ad  hanc  dictionem  "multa" 
velis  habere  consonantiam  et  non  poteris  alias,  accipias  eandem  sub  equivocatione, 
"multa"  nempe  in  quantum  est  nomen  adiectivum  et  coUectivum  plurale,  et  in 
quantum  est  nomen  substantivum,  et  tunc  idem  est  quam  "pena"  ut  in  hoc  versu: 
No3  patimur  mvltas,  etc.,  Mari.  op.  cii.,  485. 

»  Man.  op.  cU.,  393,  427. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  188 

It  would  be  robbing  the  reader  to  anticipate  his  pleasure  in 
reading  this  backward!  That  such  poetic  curiosities  as  these 
that  have  just  been  cited  were  common  either  in  the  Latin  or  the 
English  it  is  impossible  to  believe.  Their  employment  would 
substitute  intellectual  ingenuity  for  poetic  feeling.  But  the  fact 
that  they  are  found  at  all  both  in  the  Latin  and  in  the  English  is 
significant,  because  they  are  so  extreme  that  here  there  can  be  no 
question  of  vague  borrowing,  or  an  indefinable  influence.  There 
can  be  no  question  that  certain  peculiarities  appear  in  English 
verse  because  they  appear  in  Latin  verse,  and  that  to  learn  to 
write  English  they  endeavored  to  adapt  the  principles  taught  for 
Latin  composition.  And  the  same  reasoning  holds  true  of  other 
colores,  the  exclamation,  the  apostrophe,  the  rhetorical  question, 
the  antithesis,  etc.,  etc.,  that  were  then,  and  are  now,  in  ordinary 
use.  The  important  fact  is  that,  for  the  English  author  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  the  rhetorical  value  of  each  had  already  been 
definitely  stated  in  the  Medieval  Latin. 

With  a  relation  so  close  between  the  two  languages  it  is  natural 
to  expect  that  in  English  poems  Latin  would  appear.  In  the 
latter,  it  was  regarded  as  an  elegance  to  work  in  quotations  from 
classical  authors.  In  the  Lahorinthus  the  last  nine  verses  of  the 
stanzas  of  one  section  consist  of  lines  from  Juvenal,  Theodulus, 
and  Horace.^  In  England,  therefore,  particularly  in  divine  poems, 
Latin  lines  from  the  Psalms  and  phrases  from  the  Vulgate  appear. 
Lydgate'a  Te  Deum  will  serve  as  an  example;'^ 

Te  deum  laudamusl  to  the  lord  soverej^ne 

We  creaturys  knowlech  the  as  creatoure; 
Te,  etemum  patrem,  the  peple  playne. 

With  hand  and  herte  doth  the  honoure; 

O  ffemynyn  fadir  funte  and  foundoure, 
Magnus  ei  laudabilis  dominus. 

In  aonne  and  sterre  thu  sittyst  splendoure, 
Te  laudat  omnia  spiritus. 

Or,  there  may  be  whole  Latin  lines  completing  the  English  rime- 
scheme;  ' 

>  Mali  op.  cit.,  460-462. 

*  MacCracken's  Lydgate,  op.  cit.,  21. 

» T.  Wright,  Percy  Society.    Vol.  2S.    Song  No.  xiii. 


184  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Salvator  mundi,  Domine, 
Fader  of  hevyn,  blessyd  thou  be. 
And  thi  son  that  commeth  of  the, 
De  Virgine  Maria. 

Or,  they  are  worked  in  as  tags  at  the  end,  as  in  the  dull  Lamentation 
of  Mary  Magdalen^  a  dramatic  monologue  presumably  written  by 
a  nun.^ 

I  haue  him  called,  Sed  non  respondet  mihi. 
Wherefore  my  mirth  is  toumed  to  mourning 
O  dere  Lord  Quid  malifeci  tibi. 
That  me  to  comfort  I  find  no  erthly  thing. 

Alas,  haue  compassion  of  my  crying, 

Yf  fro  me,  Faciem  tuam  abacondis. 

There  is  no  more,  but  Consumere  me  vis. 

Associated  with  religion  are  the  Noels  at  Christmas-tide;  they  are 
secular  hymns.  It  is  no  matter  for  surprise  to  find  the  Latin 
carried  over  into  them.^ 

Make  we  jow  in  this  fest,  in  quo  Christus  natus  est. 

A  patre  unigenitus,  to  a  maydyn  is  cum  to  us, 

Syng  we  of  hym  and  sey  wolcum,  veni,  redemptor  gencium, 

Agnoscat  omne  secvlum,  a  bryth  stare  kyngges  mad  cum. 

For  to  take  with  her  presens  verbum  superum  prodiens,  etc. 

Or  the  well-known  carol  that  was  so  popular  that  there  are  at 
least  three  versions  of  it.' 

Caput  apri  differo. 

Reddens  laudes  Domino. 
The  bores  heed  in  hande  bring  I, 
With  garlands  gay  and  rosemary; 
I  praye  you  all  synge  merely, 

qui  estis  in  convivio,  etc. 

But  with  the  Latin  mingling  in  the  songs  of  the  Church  and  the 
Church  festivals,  the  next  step  would  be  to  find  it  in  poems  where 

^  The  poem  is  in  English  Pods,  S.  Johnson  and  A.  Chalmers,  i,  536;  the  comment 
is  by  Bertha  M.  Skeat,  Cambridge,  1897. 

*  T.  Wright,  Percy  Society,  Vol.  XXIII.  op.  cit.,  xliv. 

*  T.  Wright,  Percy  Society,  Christmas  Carols,  xviii. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  135 

the  connection  with  the  Church  has  been  completely  lost.  So 
Smerte  in  bewailing  the  death  of  his  lord  drops  into  the  phrasing. 

As  a  prynce  penytente  and  full  of  contricion. 
So  dyed  he,  we  his  seniantes  can  recorde: 
And  that  he  may  haue  euerlastynge  fruicyon. 
We  the  beseche,  gloryous  kynge  and  lorde! 
For  the  laste  leson  that  he  dyd  recorde. 
To  thy  power  he  it  aplyed,  saynge  tibi  omnes. 
As  a  hye  knyghte  in  fidelyte  fermely  moryd, 
Angeli  celi  et  posestatesi 
Wherewith  payne  to  the  hert  him  boryd. 
And  lyfe  him  lefte,  gyuynge  deth  entres. 

The  next  step  is  to  have  it  used  convivially  in  a  drinking  song.^ 

The  best  tre,  if  ye  tak  entent. 

Inter  ligna  frudifera. 
Is  the  vyne  tre,  by  good  argument, 

Dtdcia  ferens  pon  era. 
Sent  Luke  seyth  in  hys  go^pell. 

Arbor  fructu  noscitur. 
The  vyne  beryth  wyne,  as  I  yow  tell, 

Hinc  edits  preponitur. 
The  first  that  plantyd  the  vynnayard, 

Manet  in  celi  gau  dio;  .  .  . 

This  continues  for  ninety  lines,  the  alternate  riming  lines  being 
English  and  Latin.  One  more  example  must  suflSce.  This  Ls 
apparently  a  three  part  song,  at  least  it  is  headed  by  the  phrase 
triplex  pars,  by  Raff  Drake.  As  the  commonplace  book,  Appendix 
58  of  the  Royal  MS.,  has  a  number  of  the  songs  of  the  court  musi- 
cian Cornish,  Drake  probably  had  some  connection  with  the  royal 
chapel,  and  the  date  of  the  poem  is  probably  in  the  last  ten  years 
of  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.^ 

£frere  gastkyn  wo  ye  be 
qui  manes  hie  in  pat'a 
for  all  yt  here  supportyth  ye 
ye  makyst  ye  way  ad  tartara 
tartara  ys  a  place  trewly 
pro  te  et  consimilibus 
flor  hym  yt  lyuyth  in  Apostasy 
absentyd  a  claustralibus,  etc. 

»  T.  Wright,  Songt  and  Carols.  L.  *  Printed  by  Fliegel,  An^flia,  14,  268. 


136  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

And  this  resembles  the  macaronic  verses  of  the  present  day.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  all  these,  and  the  countless  others  like 
them,  appeared  before  the  conventional  date  for  the  beginning  of 
humanism  in  England,  that  therefore  they  show  the  close  relation- 
ship between  English  and  Medieval  Latin,  and  that  among  many 
authors  and  for  many  purposes  Latin  was  used  almost  inter- 
changeably with  the  native  tongue. 

In  any  case,  such  a  condition  would  have  aflFected  the  vocabulary 
of  the  English  tongue  to  a  very  large  extent.  In  addition,  this 
influence  came  at  a  period  when  English  word  formations  were 
shifting  and  the  need  of  new  words  was  being  felt.  Still  more,  it 
was  endorsed  by  the  precepts  of  the  Medieval  Latin.  Since  the 
effect  of  such  precepts  was  so  great  upon  the  English  language, 
and  since  also  the  documents  are  not  accessible  to  the  general 
reader,  an  English  translation,  the  first  one  to  my  knowledge, 
may  prove  of  interest.^ 

It  now  remains  to  speak  of  the  third  section,  namely  the  way  to  find  rimes.  Since 
doubtless  the  toilsome  continuation  of  this  work  demands  laborious  exertion,  it  is 
fitting  that  in  some  way  means  should  be  given  by  which  the  ponderosity  of  this 
weight  may  be  relieved.  In  the  present  chapter  I  shall  declare  ways  by  which  rimes 
and  the  harmony  of  phrase  may  be  found  more  easily. 

1.  The  first  method  then  of  finding  rimes  is  called  dictionum  debita  derivatio, 
because,  if  the  author  in  a  time  of  necessity  cannot  find  the  necessary  rime  for  a 
given  phrase,  let  him  see  whether  from  another  expression  a  derivative  riming  to 
his  own  expression  whose  rime  he  seeks,  can  be  formed  whether  or  not  such  an  ex- 
pression be  known;  for  example,  suppose  the  author  wishes  to  have  a  rime  for  this 
word  "formula";  nor  can  he  find  another  except  this  word  "norma";  but  that  does 
not  make  a  suflBcient  rime;  and  therefore  let  him  make  from  this  word  "norm"  a 
diminutive  "normula"  that  now  rimes  to  his  own  expression.  But  debita  derivatio 
must  be  used  in  that  way  whereby  one  does  not  sin  against  the  foimdation  of  rhet- 
oric, which  is  grammar. 

2.  The  second  way  of  finding  rimes  is  called  oompositio,  and  that  occurs  when  the 
writer  cannot  find  the  necessary  rime  to  any  word;  let  him  form  it  then  by  any 
compound  word;  for  example,  any  one  wishing  to  find  the  rime  for  this  word  "  ficio," 
not  being  able  otherwise,  let  him  take  the  compound  of  this  word  "facio,"  aa  "per- 
fido,"  etc. 

8.  The  third  way  is  called  equivocatio;  it  occurs  when  the  writer  cajonot  find  the 
rime  for  his  word;  let  him  take  the  same  word  under  an  equivocation  of  significance 
or  meaning.  Example  of  the  first:  if  to  his  word  "multa"  you  wish  to  have  the 
rime  and  cannot  do  otherwise,  take  the  same  "multa"  in  equivocation,  for  truly 

^  Mari,  op.  cit.,  484.    Trattato  di  Nicold  Tibino. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  137 

sometimes  it  is  an  adjective  and  a  collective  plural,  and  sometimes  it  is  a  substan- 
tive, and  then  it  is  the  same  as  "pena"  as  in  that  verse:  Nos  patimur  multas,  etc. 
And  of  the  second:  anyone  wishing  to  have  a  rime  of  this  word  "flores,"  if  he  can- 
not do  otherwise,  let  him  take  the  same  word  verbally,  and  this  is  used  so  according 
to  the  evidence  from  various  places. 

4.  The  fourth  way  is  called  aliene  didionis  introductio,  and  is  employed  when  a 
rime  cannot  be  found  in  the  ordinary  way.  Then  in  the  proper  case  either  use  the 
word  of  another  speech,  or  one  formed  from  it,  just  as  many  are  accustomed  some- 
times to  introduce  Greek  words,  or  words  formed  from  the  Greek,  or  from  some 
other  language;  but  nevertheless  the  formation  from  the  Greek  pleases  me  more, 
because  all  Latin  is  foimded  on  Greek  and  agrees  better  with  Greek  than  with  the 
other  languages. 

5.  The  fifth  way  b  nove  didionis  fictio;  this  way  is  used  when  the  riming  word 
cannot  be  found  by  the  writer;  in  which  case  let  a  new  word  be  formed  from  the 
sound  or  the  nature  of  the  subject  and  that  word  introduced.  But  the  writer  should 
see  to  it  that  in  some  way  such  a  word  be  comprehensible  and  intelligible;  otherwise 
little  praise  follows,  since  his  word  or  song  cannot  be  understood. 

6.  The  sixth  way  is  called  transumptio,  and  occurs  when  the  word  necessary  for 
making  the  rime  takes  a  new  significance  and  in  such  transumption  there  is  in- 
herent, or  is  given,  sufficient  similarity;  for  example:  if  someone  wishes  to  have  a 
rime  for  the  word  "videt";  no  other  is  possible  except  this  word  "videt,"  yet  be- 
cause it  cannot  be  used  in  its  own  signification,  let  the  same  word  assume  a  meaning 
in  this  extended  significance. 

7.  The  seventh  way  is  called  dictioni  similUudinia  adjunctio,  and  takes  place  when 
the  author  cannot  find  the  rime;  then  he  puts  in  some  kind  of  fitting  similitude,  as 
is  seen  in  the  example: 

Ut  ex  spinis  crescit  rosa, 

in  mundi  delictis, 
semper  finis  dolorosa 

miscetur  cum  viciis. 

But  this  can  be  done  by  another  cdor,  that  is  called  similitudo, 

8.  The  eighth  way  is  called  contrarii  positio.  It  is  when  the  writer  cannot  find  the 
riming  word;  let  him  use  then  the  phrase  of  the  contrary  meaning  with  the  negative 
sign;  as,  if  from  this  speech:  munera  tua  sunt  mala,  some  one  might  wish  to  make 
a  speech  harmonizing  in  rime,  let  him  in  the  prescribed  mode  say:  tua  dona,  non 
sunt  bona;  so  by  this  device  let  him  make  a  phrase  suitable  in  meaning,  as,  if  one 
cannot  rime  a  certain  word,  let  him  take  its  synonym,  or  its  opposite  with  a  negative, 
as  has  been  shown. 

9.  The  ninth  way  is  called  unius  partis  orationis  pro  reception  this  mode  is  when 
the  writer  cannot  find  in  the  paradigm  the  riming  word,  let  him  take  another  un- 
declinable part,  such  as  an  adverb,  or  a  preposition,  etc.  Let  him  then  take  the 
synonym  of  that  part,  giving  it  the  full  meaning,  and  let  him  make  that  part  de- 
clinable, as  Laborinihus  teaches  in  his  (2e  modis  egregie  loquendi.  This  is  also  shown 
in  the  following  examples: 


188  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Qui  sunt  absque  nisi 

Non  sunt  homines  minus  visi; 

where  this  idea  "nisi"  is  placed  advowedly  for  its  synonym. 

10.  The  tenth  method  is  called  casuum  mutatio,  and  this  is  used  when  the  word 
does  not  rime  in  one  case,  let  it  then  be  varied  into  another  riming  case,  and  this  is 
explained  in  the  Viatico  dictandi,  treatise  de  commutaiione  dictionum. 

And  I  urge  you  to  remember  faithfully  these  said  methods  of  finding  rimes;  for 
they  are  themselves  not  only  valuable  for  finding  rimes,  but  also  for  the  ornamenta- 
tion of  writing  and  by  them  authors  induce  subtilty. 

The  effect  upon  any  language  of  such  precepts  as  these  naturally 
would  be  an  increase  of  the  vocabulary.  Practically  the  author  is 
told  that,  if  he  cannot  find  a  riming  word,  he  is  at  liberty  to  coin 
one;  and  the  practice  is  advocated  notonly  as  a  labor-saving  device, 
but  as  producing  that  pearl  of  medieval  literature  suhtilitas.  It 
requires  no  great  knowledge  of  human  nature,  as  exhibited  in  the 
writings  of  the  fifteenth  century,  to  understand  that  such  precepts 
would  be  read  with  avidity  by  the  English  authors  harassed  by 
linguistic  diflficulties.  That  such  was  the  fact  is  shown  by  the  ex- 
amples in  the  poem  by  Smerte,  who  not  only  followed  the  precepts 
but  in  addition  noted  the  fact  in  the  margin. 
Thus  his  stanza 

Than,  if  it  be  ryghte,  most  of  myght,  thy  godhed  I  ac'ise. 

For  thy  myght  contrary  to  right  thou  doste  gretly  abuse; 

KatyflFes  unkind  thou  leuest  behind,  paynis,  Turkes,  and  lewis. 

And  our  maister  gret  thou  gaue  wormes  to  ete;  whereon  gretly  I  muse: 

Is  this  wel  done?    answer  me  sone;  make,  Lorde,  thyn  excuse, 

is  marked  color  Introductio.  This  is  the  fourth  color  in  the  list  cited 
previously,  and  advocates  the  introduction  of  a  word  of  foreign 
origin.  In  the  stanza  the  b  rime  is  given  by  accuse.  Of  the  five 
necessary  rimes,  three,  accuse,  Jews,  and  Tnu^e  were  at  hand.  There- 
fore from  the  French,  or  possibly  Medieval  Latin  abusare,  he  in- 
troduces the  word  abuse  in  the  sense  of  to  employ  improperly,  the 
first  use  of  which  as  applied  to  things,  recorded  by  the  New  Eng- 
Hsh  Dictionary,  is  a  century  later;  and  his  first  use  of  excuse,  that 
which  tends  to  extenuate  a  fault  or  offense  is  dated  as  1494.  In 
another  stanza,  by  the  fifth  color,  fictio,  he  increases  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  word. 

Bydynge  al  alone,  with  sorowe  sore  encombred.  .  . 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  139 

Encumber  in  this  figurative  sense  is  new  with  Smerte.  Still  an- 
other illustrates  the  sixth,  transumption  in  the  line, 

Youre  pleasures  been  past  vnto  penalyte. 

This  is  the  first  use  of  penalty  given  in  the  New  English  Diction- 
ary, with  the  meaning  suffering.  And  from  the  fact  that  Smerte 
affixes  the  side-notes  it  is  clear  that  not  only  is  he  conscious  of  his 
innovations  but  he  is  proudly  conscious  of  them. 

Consequently  the  fifteenth  century  is  marked  by  the  great  num- 
ber of  new  verbal  coinages,  especially  from  the  Latin,  although 
there  are  a  number  from  the  French.  Thus  was  formed  the  "aur- 
eate" language.  As  an  example  of  this,  the  stanza  from  the  En- 
voy of  Alison  may  be  quoted,  the  one  in  which  the  first  letters  of 
the  respective  lines  form  an  anagram  of  the  name.^ 

Aurore  of  gladnesse,  and  day  of  lustinesse. 
Lucerne  a-night,  with  hevenly  influence 
Illumined,  rote  of  beautee  and  goodnesse, 
Suspiries  which  I  eflFunde  in  silence. 
Of  grace  I  beseche,  alegge  let  your  wrytinge. 
Now  of  al  goode  sith  ye  be  best  livinge. 

This  was  written  and  was  accepted  as  beautiful  English.  In  the 
Remedy  of  Love  such  words  as  allective,  concupiscence,  scribable, 
aromatic,  redolence,  jeoperdously,  sembably,  ortographie,  ethi- 
mologie,  ramagious,  bataylous,  and  dissonant,  (to  choose  only  the 
more  striking)  are  used  in  denunciation.^  The  author  explains 
that  he  was  one  of  the  three  men  flirting  with  the  same  woman, 
who  tricked  them  all.  It  is  to  this  melancholy  incident  that  the 
poem  is  due.  The  piece  belongs  clearly  to  the  type  of  the  medieval 
attack  upon  women,  but  its  language  shows  the  beginning  of  the 
Renaissance.  It  is  interesting,  therefore,  as  showing  to  what  ex- 
tent even  in  ordinary  verse  the  English  language  was  affected  by 
foreign  importations. 

It  is  in  Hawes,  however,  that  we  find  both  the  fullest  explana- 
tion of  the  theory  and  the  most  extreme  examples  of  its  practice. 
His  master  Lydgate  had  versified' 

"The  depured  rethoryke  in  Englysb  language." 

» Skeat's  Chaucer,  vii,  SflO. 

*  Chalmers'  English  Poets,  i,  540. 

*  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  Cap.  xi. 


140  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Consequently  the  selection  of  a  vocabulary  is  a  serious  problem.* 

"The  dulcet  speche  from  the  langage  rude, 
Tellynge  the  tale  in  terms  eloquent. 
The  barbary  tongue  it  doth  ferre  exclude, 
Electynge  wordes  whiche  are  expedyent. 
In  Latyn  or  in  Englyshe,  after  the  extent 
Encensyng  out  the  aromatyke  fume. 
Our  language  rude  to  exyle  and  consume." 

If  the  author  neglects  this  principle,  trouble  follows.^ 

"  For  though  a  matter  be  never  so  good, 
Yf  it  be  tolde  wyth  tongue  of  barbary, 
In  rude  maner  wythout  the  discrete  mode. 
It  is  distourbance  to  a  hole  company." 

This  craving  for  the  "aromatyke  fume"  in  "fewe  wordes,  swete 
and  sentencious ",  a  sixteenth  century  expression  of  the  theory 
of  "le  mot  propre",  results  in  a  vocabulary  enriched  by  such  coin- 
ages as  depuredy  puheritude,  sugratif,  perambulat,  equipolent,  bro- 
haie,  solisgyse,  habytaile,  itarenge,  teneorus,  consuetude,  etc.  To  a 
student  of  Latin  the  meaning  of  most  of  these  words,  and  of  others 
like  them,  is  clear,  although  personally  I  confess  to  a  doubt  as  to 
the  significance  of  brobate  and  itarenge.^  The  concrete  appli- 
cation of  this  theory  is  terrifying.  In  the  following  stanza  ^  the 
knight  has  won  his  lady  and  the  eflFect  upon  him  is  described. 

"  Her  redolente  wordes  of  swete  influence 

Degouted  vapoure  moost  aromatyke. 

And  made  conversyon  of  complacence; 

Her  depured  and  her  lusty  rethoryke 

My  courage  reformed,  that  was  so  lunatyke; 

My  sorowe  defeted,  and  my  mynde  dyde  modefy. 

And  my  dolorous  herte  began  to  pacyfy." 

The  excesses  of  such  a  style  rendered  it  innocuous.  A  reaction 
against  "  ink-horn  "  terms  set  in  and  simplicity  was  sought.  This 
reaction  was  caused  by,  or  was  at  least  concomitant  with,  that 

^  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  Cap.  xi. 

*  Ibid,  Cap.  xii. 

*  I  recognize  their  fascination,  but  the  New  English  Dictionary  is  here  reticent. 

*  Pastime  of  Pleasure,  Cap.  xxxviii. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  141 

closer  and  more  sympathetic  study  of  the  classical  authors  that  is 
called  humanism.  The  movement  was  naturally  slow,  the  nation 
tending  to  slough  oflF  some  excrescences  sooner  than  others.  Thus 
Wilson  in  his  Arte  of  Rhetorique  (1553)  feels  it  necessary  to  include 
the  "tropes"  of  a  word.    These  are:  ^ 

A  Metaphore  or  translation  of  wordes. 

A  word  making. 

Intellection. 

Abusion. 

Transmutation  of  a  word. 

Transumption. 

Chaunge  of  name. 

Circumlocution. 

And  the  tropes  of  a  long  continued  speech  or  sentence,  are  these; 

An  AUegorie,  or  inuersion  of  wordes. 

Mounting. 

Resembling  of  things. 

Similitude. 

Example. 

Such  a  catalogue  as  this  suggests  Ad  Herennium  as  seen  through 
medieval  spectacles,  much  more  than  the  reasoning  of  Aristotle. 
That  is  the  medieval  side  of  his  work.  But  it  is  preceded  by  an 
elaborate  warning.    This  is  the  Renaissance:  ^ 

Among  all  other  lessons  this  should  first  be  learned,  that  wee  neuer  affect  any 
straunge  ynkehome  termes,  but  to  speake  as  is  commonly  receiued:  neither  seeking 
to  be  ouer  fine,  nor  yet  liuing  ouer-carelesse  using  our  speeche  as  most  men  doe, 
and  ordering  our  wittes  as  the  fewest  haue  done.  Some  seeke  so  far  for  outlandish 
English,  that  they  forget  altogether  their  mothers  language.  And  I  dare  sweare 
this,  if  some  of  their  mothers  were  alive,  thei  were  not  able  to  tell  what  they  say: 
and  yet  these  fine  English  clerkes  will  say,  they  speake  in  their  mother  tongue,  if  a 
man  should  charge  them  for  counterfeiting  the  Kings  English.  Some  farre  iour- 
neyed  gentleman  at  their  retume  home,  like  as  they  loue  to  goe  in  forraine  ap- 
parell,  so  thei  wil  pouder  their  talke  with  ouersea  language.  He  that  commeth 
lately  out  of  Fraunce,  will  talke  French  English  and  neuer  blush  at  the  matter!  An 
other  chops  in  with  English  Italienated,  and  applieth  the  Italian  phrase  to  our 
English  speaking,  the  which  is,  as  if  an  Oratour  that  professeth  to  vtter  his  mind  in 

*  I  am  quoting  from  the  reprint  of  the  1560  edition,  edited  by  G.  H.  Mair  for 
the  Qarendon  Press  1909.  172. 

*  Ibid,  p.  162. 


142  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

plaine  Latine,  would  needes  speake  poetrie,  and  farre  fetxJied  colours  of  straunge 
antiquitie.  The  Lawyer  will  store  his  stomacke  with  the  prating  of  Pedlers.  The 
Auditor  in  making  his  accompt  and  reckening,  cometh  in  with  sise  aould,  and  cater 
denere,  for  vi,  s.  iiii,  d.  The  fine  courtier  will  talke  nothing  but  Chaucer.  The 
misticall  wiseman  and  Poeticall  Clerkes,  will  speake  nothing  but  quaint  Prouerbes, 
and  blinde  Allegories,  delighting  much  in  their  owne  darkenesse,  especially,  when 
none  can  tell  what  they  doe  say.  The  vnleamed  or  foolish  phantasticall,  that  smelles 
but  of  learning  (such  fellowes  as  haue  seen  learned  men  in  their  dales)  wil  so  Latin 
their  tongues,  that  the  simple  can  not  but  wonder  at  their  talke,  and  thinke  surely 
they  speake  by  some  reuelation.  I  know  them  that  thinke  Rhetorique  to  stande 
wholie  vpon  darke  wordes,  and  hee  that  can  catche  an  ynke  home  terme  by  the 
taile,  him  they  coumpt  to  be  a  fine  Englisheman,  and  a  good  RJietorician.  And  the 
rather  to  set  out  this  foly,  I  will  adde  such  a  letter  as  William  Sommer  himsefe, 
could  not  make  a  better  for  that  purpose.  Some  will  thinke  and  sweare  it  too,  that 
there  was  neuer  any  such  thing  written:  well,  I  will  not  force  any  man  to  beleeue 
it,  but  I  will  say  thus  much,  and  abide  by  it  too,  the  like  haue  been  made  hereto- 
fore, and  praised  aboue  the  Moone. 

A  letter  dcuised  by  a  Lincolneshire  man,  for  a  voyde  benefice,  to  a  gentleman  that 
then  waited  vpon  the  Lorde  Chauncellour,  for  the  time  being. 

Pondering,  expending,  and  reuoluting  with  my  selfe,  your  ingent  affabilitie, 
and  ingenious  capacity  for  mundaine  affaires:  I  cannot  but  celebrate,  &  extol  your 
magnificil  dexteritie  aboue  all  other.  For  how  could  you  haue  adepted  such  il- 
lustrate prerogatiue,  and  dominical  1  superioritie,  if  the  fecunditie  of  your  ingenie 
had  not  been  so  fertile  and  wonderfull  pregnant.  Now  therefore  being  accersited 
to  such  splcndente  renoume,  and  dignitie  splendidious:  I  doubt  not  but  you  will 
adiuuate  such  poore  adnichilate  orphanes,  as  whilome  ware  condisciples  with  you, 
and  of  antique  familiaritie  in  Lincolneshire.  Among  whom  I  being  a  Scholasticall 
panion,  obtestate  your  sublimitie,  to  extoU  mine  infirmitie.  There  is  a  Sacerdotal! 
dignitie  in  my  natiue  Countrey  continguate  to  me,  where  I  now  contemplate: 
which  your  worshipfull  benignitie  could  sone  impetrate  for  mee,  if  it  would  like  you 
to  extend  your  sedules,  and  coUaude  me  in  them  to  the  right  honourable  lord  Chaun- 
celler,  or  rather  Archgrammacian  of  Englande.  You  know  my  literature,  you  knowe 
the  pastorall  promotion,  I  obtestate  your  clemencie,  to  inuigilate  thus  much  for 
me,  according  to  my  confidence,  and  as  you  knowe  my  condigne  merites  for  such 
a  compendious  liuing.  But  now  I  relinquish  to  fatigate  your  intelligence,  with  any 
more  friuolous  verbositie,  and  therefore  he  that  rules  the  climates,  be  euermore  your 
beautreur,  your  fortresse,  and  your  bulwarke.    Amen. 

Dated  at  my  Dome,  or  rather  Mansion  place  in  Lincolneshire,  the  penulte  of  the 
moneth  sextile.    Anno  Millimo,  quillimo,  triUimo. 

Per  me  Joannes  Octo. 

What  wiseman  reading  this  Letter,  will  not  take  him  for  a  very  Caulf  that  made  it 
in  good  earnest,  and  thought  by  his  inke  pot  termes  to  get  a  good  Parsonage.  Doeth 
wit  re§t  in  straunge  wordes,  or  els  standeth  it  in  wholseom  matter,  and  apt  declaring 
of  a  mans  minde?  Doe  wee  not  speake  because  we  would  haue  other  to  vnderstande 
vs,  or  is  not  the  tongue  giuen  for  this  ende,  that  one  might  know  what  an  other 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  148 

meaneth?  And  what  vnleamed  man  can  tel,  what  this  letter  signiBeth?  There- 
fore, either  we  must  make  a  difference  of  English,  and  say  some  is  learned  English 
and  other  some  is  rude  English  the  one  is  court  talke,  the  other  is  countrey  speech, 
or  els  we  must  of  necessitie  banish  all  such  Rhetorique,  and  vse  altogether  one  maner 
of  language.  When  I  was  in  Cambridge,  and  student  in  the  kings  College,  there 
came  a  man  out  of  the  toune  with  a  pint  of  wine  in  a  pottle  port,  to  welcome  the 
prouost  of  that  house,  that  lately  came  from  the  court.  And  because  he  would 
bestow  his  present  Uke  a  clarke,  dwelling  among  the  scholers:  he  made  humblie 
his  three  curtesies  and  sayd  in  this  maner.  Cha  good  euen  my  good  Lord,  and  well 
might  your  Lordship  vare,  vnderstanding  that  your  Lordshippe  was  come,  and 
knowing  that  you  are  a  worshipfull  Klate,  and  keepes  abominable  house:  I  thought 
it  my  duetie  to  come  incantiuante,  and  bring  you  a  pottell  of  wine,  the  which  I 
besech  your  Lordship  take  in  good  worth.  Here  the  simple  man,  being  desirous 
to  amend  his  mothers  tongue,  shewing  himselfe  not  to  bee  the  wisest  man  that  euer 
spake  with  tongue. 

An  other  good  fellow^e  of  the  countrey,  being  an  oflBcer  and  Maior  of  a  toime, 
and  desirous  to  speake  like  a  fine  learned  man,  hauing  iust  occasion  to  rebuke  a 
runnegate  fellwoe,  said  after  this  wise  in  a  great  heate.  Thou  yngrame  and  vaca- 
tion knaue,  if  I  tak  ethee  any  more  within  the  Circumcision  of  my  dampnation:  I 
will  so  corrupt  thee,  that  all  other  vacation  knaues  shall  take  ilsample  by  thee. 

An  other  standing  in  much  neede  of  money,  and  desirous  to  haue  some  helpe, 
at  a  gentlemans  hande,  made  his  complainte  in  this  wise.  I  pray  you  sir  be  so  good 
vnto  me,  as  forbeare  this  halfe  yeres  rent.  For  so  help  me  God  and  halidome,  we 
are  so  taken  on  with  contrary  Bishops,  with  reuiues,  and  with  Southsides  to  the 
King,  that  all  our  money  is  cleane  gone.  These  words  he  spake  for  Contribution, 
Releef,  and  Subside.  And  thus  we  see  that  poore  simple  men  are  much  troubled, 
and  talke  oftentimes  they  knowe  not  what  for  lacke  of  wit,  and  want  of  Latine  and 
French,  whereof  many  of  our  strange  wordes  full  often  are  deriued.  Those  there- 
fore that  will  eschue  this  folly,  and  acquaint  themselues  with  the  best  kind  of  speech, 
must  seeke  from  time  to  time  such  wordes  as  are  commonly  receiued,  and  such  as 
properly  may  expresse  in  plaine  maner,  the  whole  conceipt  of  their  minde.  And 
looke  what  wordes  we  best  vnderstande,  and  knowe  what  they  meane:  the  same 
should  soonest  be  spoken,  and  first  applied  to  the  utterance  of  our  purpose. 

Now  whereas  wordes  be  receiued,  as  well  Greeke  as  Latine,  to  set  forth  our  mean- 
ing in  the  English  tongue,  either  for  lacke  of  store,  or  els  because  we  would  enrich 
the  language:  it  is  well  doen  to  vse  them,  and  no  man  therein  can  be  charged  for  any 
affectation,  when  all  other  are  agreed  to  foUowe  the  same  waie.  There  is  no  man 
agreeued  when  he  heareth  (Letters  Patents)  and  yet  Patentes  is  Latine,  and  sig- 
nifieth  open  to  all  men.  The  Commimion  is  a  fellowship,  or  a  comming  together 
rather  Latin  then  English:  the  kings  prerogatiue  declareth  his  power  roiall  aboue 
al  other,  and  yet  I  know  no  man  greeued  for  these  termes,  being  vsed  in  their  place, 
nor  yet  any  one  suspected  for  affectation,  when  such  generall  wordes  are  spoken. 
The  folic  is  espied,  when  either  we  will  vse  such  wordes  as  fewe  men  doe  vse,  or 
vse  them  out  of  place,  when  an  other  might  serue  much  better.  Therefore  to  auoide 
such  folly,  we  may  leame  of  that  most  excellent  Oratour  Ttdlie,  who  in  his  third 
booke,  where  he  speaketh  of  a  perfect  Oratour,  declareth  vnder  the  name  of  Crassua, 
that  for  the  choiae  of  words  fower  things  should  chefly  be  obserued.    First  that  such 


144  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

words  as  we  vse,  should  be  proper  vnto  the  tongue  wherein  wee  speake,  againe,  that 
they  bee  plaine  for  all  men  to  perceiue:  thirdly,  that  they  be  apt  and  meete,  most 
properly  to  sette  out  the  matter.  Fourthly,  that  words  translated  from  one  sig- 
nification to  an  other  (called  of  the  Grecians  Tropes)  be  vsed  to  beautifie  the  sen- 
tence, as  precious  stones  are  set  in  a  ring  to  commende  the  gold. 

This  long  extract  deserves  careful  consideration  from  the  fact 
that  Wilson  has  correctly  diagnosed  the  trouble.  He  shows  the 
presence  of  the  ink-hom  terms,  and  later,  as  we  have  seen,  he  ex- 
plains their  formation;  he  points  out  the  tendency  of  the  age 
towards  their  misuse;  and  finally  by  study  of  the  classics  he 
deduces  the  correct  solution.  In  the  same  way  it  is  the  hu- 
manist Ascham  that  in  the  Toxophilus  (1545)  makes  the  same 
protest.^ 

He  that  wyll  wryte  well  in  any  tongue,  muste  folowe  thys  councel  of  Aristotle, 
to  speake  as  the  common  people  do,  to  thinke  as  wise  men  do;  and  so  shoulde  euery 
man  vnderstand  hym,  and  the  iudgement  of  wyse  men  alowe  hym.  Many  English 
writers  haue  not  done  so,  but  vsinge  straunge  wordes  as  latin,  french  and  Italian, 
do  make  all  thinges  darke  and  harde.  Ones  I  communed  with  a  man  whiche  rea- 
soned the  englyshe  tongue  to  be  enryched  and  encreased  thereby,  sayinge:  Who  wyll 
not  prayse,  that  feaste,  where  a,  man  shall  drinke  at  a  diner,  bothe  wyne,  ale  and 
beere?  Truely  quod  I,  they  be  all  good,  euery  one  taken  by  hym  selfe  alone,  but 
if  you  putte  Malmesye  and  sacke,  read  wyne  and  white,  ale  and  beere,  and  al  in  one 
pot,  you  shall  make  a  drynke,  neyther  easie  to  be  knowen,  nor  yet  holsom  for  the 
bodye. 

The  total  result  of  the  movement  was  happy.  The  majority  of 
the  words  thus  hauled  into  English  lost  their  foreign  air  and, 
sometimes  with  a  changed  significance,  took  their  places  in  the 
language.  The  reader  may  amuse  himself  by  considering,  in  the 
letter  quoted  by  Wilson  as  the  extreme  of  pedantry,  how  n^any  of 
those  words,  perhaps  in  a  derived  form  and  a  different  meaning, 
are  today  quite  normal.  Adepted  as  a  participle  is  unusual,  but 
adept  as  a  noun  does  not  shock  us;  adnichilate  terrifies  when  the 
humble  annihilate  leaves  us  perfectly  placid.  Thus  the  English 
language  was  sturdy  enough  to  take  care  of  itself;  it  both  threw 
off  the  unnecessary  and  useless  additions,  and  it  assimilated  the 
rest. 

In  dealing  with  the  question  of  colores,  especially   how  the 

^  Arber's  reprint  of  the  Toxophiliu,  18. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  145 

practice  of  them  affected  the  English  language,  we  are  standing 
on  fairly  firm  foundation.  At  least  beneath  us  is  the  massive  bulk 
of  the  New  English  Dictionary.  The  moment,  however,  we  come 
to  the  question  of  pronunciation,  the  proper  scansion  of  the  line, 
or  to  the  question  of  prosody,  it  is  quite  a  different  matter.  As  the 
syllable  value  of  the  final  e  varies  with  the  individual  writer,  each 
line  is  a  problem  to  us.  What  is  still  more  unfortunate  is  the  fact 
that  each  line  was  equally  a  problem  to  the  scribe  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  whose  redaction  in  almost  all  cases  is  the  only  one  that 
has  come  down  to  us.  Because  the  possible  existence  of  the  final 
e  as  a  metrical  factor  was  a  mystery  to  him,  and  because  in  the 
sixteenth  century  the  desire  for  the  ipsissima  verba  was  unknown, 
he  conscientiously  endeavored  to  improve  the  poems  by  making 
the  lines  more  regular.  The  result  is  that  we  can  never  be  sure 
that  in  any  given  case  we  have  the  words  that  the  author  wrote. 
Therefore  we  deduce  principles  from  the  text,  and  then  correct 
the  text  in  accordance  with  the  principles.  The  result,  however, 
is  necessarily  unsatisfactory.  It  is  here,  then,  that  we  turn 
to  the  Medieval  Latin  theorists  to  find  what  is  the  basis  for  the 
scansion. 

In  the  Medieval  Latin,  as  all  the  theorists  agree,  there  is  one 
main  definition  of  rithm.  This,  as  stated  in  the  simplest  and  most 
primitive  of  the  treatises  is  that  rithm  is  the  harmonious  equality 
of  syllables,  held  within  a  definite  number.^  Other  writers,  care- 
fully following  Cicero,  explain  that  the  word  comes  from  the 
Greek  pvdfiS^,  equivalent  to  the  Latin  numerus.  This  is,  then, 
the  basic  point.  Lines  are  classified  primarily  by  the  number  of 
syllables  contained  in  each.  The  limitation  of  this  definition  is 
at  once  apparent  because,  according  to  it,  all  the  syllables  will  be 
of  equal  value.  Verse  composed  according  to  this  scheme  would 
have  the  unaccented  characteristic  of  French  poetry.  Although 
this  is  untrue  either  in  Latin  or  in  English  verse,  in  the  early 
ecclesiastical  chants,  where  the  music  consists  in  a  succession  of 
half  notes  terminated  at  the  end  of  the  line  by  a  whole  note,  such 
a  definition  fairly  covers  the  facts.  Equally  of  course  when 
quicker  measures  were  introduced,  to  follow  the  musical  analogy 
the  definition  had  to  be  modified.    This  was  done  by  prolonging 

'  Muri  op.  cil.,  S83.  Rithmus  est  coosonans  paritas  siUabarum  aub  certo  numero 
compreheiuiarum. 


146  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

some  syllables  and  shortening  others,  thus  recognizing  accent.* 
In  this  way  are  feet  formed,  the  names  of  which  are  taken  from 
the  quantitative  system.  Thus  an  iambus  is  formed  by  a  word 
accented  upon  the  ultimate,  and  a  spondee  by  a  word  accented 
upon  the  penult.^  For  example,  delight  forms  an  iambic  foot, 
and  mother  a  spondaic  foot.  The  line  then  takes  its  name  from  the 
last  foot  in  it  and  the  syllables  are  counted  backward.  An 
octosyllabic  line  with  a  feminine  ending  would  then  be  termed  a 
tetraspondaic  line;  with  a  masculine  ending,  a  tetraiambic  line. 
Aside  from  the  nomenclature,  this  needs  no  comment  in  regard  to 
English  verse  composition.  It  would  produce  lines  as  faultlessly 
regular  as  those  of  the  eighteenth  century.  In  actual  practice, 
however,  this  theoretical  regularity  was  modified  by  opposing 
tendencies.  Of  these,  undoubtedly  the  most  important  was  the 
old  national  system  of  versification,  according  to  which  poems 
were  still  composed  in  the  fifteenth  century.  The  numerous 
manuscripts  of  the  Vision  of  Piers  Plotoman  attest  the  popularity 
of  the  type.  But  there,  versification  is  based  upon  stress,  and  the 
exact  number  of  syllables  to  a  foot  is  unimportant.  To  the  ear 
trained  in  such  a  system,  therefore,  an  occasional  extra  syllable 
in  the  line  was  a  matter  of  indifference.  There  was  thus  a  strong 
•tendency  to  scan  the  line  by  the  number  of  accents,  rather  than 
by  the  number  of  syllables.  This  native  tendency  received  also 
subconscious  strength  from  the  nomenclature,  borrowed  from 
classical  versification.  Naturally,  in  an  accentual  system  of 
prosody,  spondees,  dactyls,  or  anapests  exist  largely  by  courtesy. 
But  as  in  the  classical  system  a  dactyl,  or  an  anapest,  is  the  metri- 
cal equivalent  of  a  spondee,  so  in  a  five-accented  ten-syllabic  line 
it  was  easy  to  explain  the  introduction  of  extra  syllables  on  the 
ground  of  the  substitution  of  a  dactyllic  or  anapestic  foot  for  a 
regular  spondaic.  Still  more,  the  Medieval  Latinists  claimed  the 
Hcense  of  slurring  syllables,   at   least  for  the  sake  of  rime,  so 

^  Man,  op.  eU.,  470.  Propter  quod  nota  quod  per  accentum  non  intelligo  plus 
quam  prolongationem  et  breviationem  sillabarum,  idest  acutam  et  brevem  ipsarum 
prolationem,  ita  quod  per  prolongationem  sillabe  singnatur  acutus  vel  elevatus 
sonus,  per  breviationem  gravis  suspensio.  Istud  autem  Laborintus  exprimit  per 
iambicum  et  spondaicum  seu  spondicum,  volens  per  iambicus  breviationem  sillabe 
et  p>er  spondaicum  prolongationem. 

'  Of  course  this  is  not  a  true  spondee,  which  is  rare  in  English — the  tenns  cover 
all  trochees. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  147 

mommona  could  be  scanned  as  momma,  secula  as  secla,^  etc.  And 
the  result  of  these  three  factors  was  that  the  author  composed 
freely  by  ear,  so  that  while  theoretically  a  five-accented  line  had 
ten  syllables,  and  only  ten,  actually,  provided  that  the  accents 
were  correct,  the  exact  number  of  syllables  was  immaterial.  In 
the  following  passage,  for  example,  Barclay  is  writing  the  heroic 
couplet,  although  few  of  the  lines  have  only  ten  syllables. 

Nay,  there  hath  the  sight  no  maner  of  pleasaunce. 

And  that  shall  I  prove  long  time  or  it  be  night. 

Some  men  deliteth  beholding  men  to  fight. 

Or  goodly  knightes  in  pleasaunt  apparayle. 

Or  sturdie  souldiers  in  bright  hames  and  male. 

Or  an  army  arayde  ready  to  the  warre. 

Or  to  see  them  fight,  so  that  he  stande  afarre.' 

It  is  this  freedom  in  the  number  of  syllables  and  the  placing  of 
the  accents,  as  well  as  the  enjambment,  that  technically  differen- 
tiates the  couplet  of  the  Elizabethans  from  that  of  the  Age  of  Anne. 
Marlowe's  line,^ 

The  barbarous  Thracian  soldier,  mov'd  with  nought 

is  consequently  strictly  consonant  with  EngUsh  usage.  On  the 
other  hand  the  versification  of  Pope  where 

And  ten  low  words  oft  creep  in  one  dull  line 

shows  the  effect  of  the  French,  a  really  syllabic,  prosody.  And 
although  not  with  Pope,  at  least  in  the  hands  of  his  imitators, 
verse  became  mechanical,  a  mere  matter  of  counting  syllables. 
But  as  the  Medieval  Latin,  like  the  English,  was  accentual,  such 
danger  was  not  incurred  by  English  imitators;  at  the  same  time 
the  syllabic  basis  of  prosody  was  insisted  upon. 

In  dealing  with  the  question  of  the  grouping  of  lines  into  stanza 
forms,  we  have  definite  data.  For,  not  only  is  there  the  summary 
of  John  of  Garlandia,  written  about  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth 
century  (quoted  entire  on  pages  125-6)  but  in  addition  we  have  the 

^  Man,  op.  cit.,  472. 

*  Barclay,  Second  Eclogue. 

*  IJero  and  Leander.    First  Sestiad,  81. 


148  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

fourth  book  of  the  Laborinthus,  written  probably  a  century  later,* 
in  which  twenty-eight  of  the  possible  forty-four  combinations  are 
illustrated.  An  examination  of  these  two  documents  shows  that 
Medieval  Latin  prosody  is  interesting  not  only  for  what  it  contains, 
but  also  for  what  it  omits.  With  the  exception  of  the  ten  syllable 
iambic  line,  the  longest  line  possible  is  octosyllabic.  But  even 
this  lambicus  Decasillabus  is  qualified  by  the  clause,  qualis  est 
iUe  rithmus.  The  importance  of  this  qualification  is  apparent 
when  the  verse  form  is  studied. 


If  this  were  read 


Diri  patris  infausta  pignora, 
ante  ortus  damnati  tempora; 
quia  vestra  sic  iacent  corpora, 
mea  dolent  introrsus  pectora. 

Diri  patris  infai^ta  pignord 


it  would  be  a  normal  five  accented  line.  Really,  however,  as  John 
of  Garlandia  confesses,  it  is  iambic  only  by  courtesy,  since  the  last 
foot  is  dactylic.  This  is  shown  by  a  quotation  from  the  same  poem, 
Lamentatic  Oedipi,  given  in  another  tract  (circ.  1150)  to  illustrate 
a  triple  rime.  But  this  reduces  the  verse  to  one  of  four  accents 
only.  If  this  be  true,  the  iambic  pentameter  line,  the  line  of  blank 
verse,  the  sonnet,  the  heroic  couplet,  the  rime-royal,  and  the  Spen- 
serian stanza  do  not  appear.  When  one  realizes  the  effect  on 
English  literature  of  the  disappearance  of  all  poems  written  in 
these  and  allied  forms,  the  limitation  of  the  Medieval  Latin  is  at 
once  apparent.  And  the  second  striking  omission  is  that  there  is  no 
provision  for  an  intricate  rime-scheme.  You  may  have  a  couplet, 
triplet,  quadruplet,  in  a  line  of  two,  three,  or  four  accents  closing 
in  a  6  rime,  you  may  have  a  quatrain  with  the  second  and  fourth 
lines  alone  riming,  the  first  and  third  and  the  second  and  fourth, 
or  the  first  and  fourth  and  second  and  third,  but  there  is  no 
prototype  of  such  a  form  as  the  ballade  or  the  rondeau.  These 
rime-schemes,  aab  and  abab,  with  their  variations,  thus  form  the 
staple  of  Medieval  Latin  poetry.  In  contrast  with  the  wire-drawn 
verbal  ingenuity  of  later  work,  the  effect  of  the  rime-schemes  upon 
the  reader  is  one  of  simplicity.  Compare  with  these  perfectly 
obvious  forms,  the  rime-scheme  of  such  a  piece  as  the  Lycidast 

^  Man,  op.  eil.,  Prefazione,  §  8. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  149 

for  example,  where  the  ear  is  tantalized  by  the  appearance  or 
omission  of  the  rime,  each  equally  unexpected.  Here  the  rimes 
appear  with  an  obvious  regularity;  the  accents  fall  with  the  tick 
of  the  clock. 

Meiim  est  propositum 

In  tabrena  mori; 
Ubi  vina  proxima 

Morientis  on: 
Tunc  cantabunt  laetius 

Angelorum  chori: 
"Deus  sit  propitius 
Isti  potatori."  ^ 

This  is  really  two  mono-rime  couplets  of  thirteen  syllables.  The 
form  of  this  celebrated  old  drinking  song  is  typically  obvious. 
When  the  forms  used  by  the  English  poets  between  Lydgate 
and  Wyatt  are  examined,  these  same  characteristics  are  to  be 
found.  Aside  from  the  rime-royal,  the  "Monk's  Tale"  stanza  and 
the  heroic  couplet,  both  belonging  to  the  Chaucerian  tradition, 
dignified  by  the  use  of  Lydgate,  and  continued  as  the  vehicle 
for  formal  literary  effort,  poetic  forms  are  marked  by  short  lines 
and  simple  rime-schemes.  While  all  these  are  not  necessarily  bor- 
rowed from  the  Medieval  Latin,  it  is  worthy  of  notice  that  the 
majority  are  to  be  found  discussed  in  the  Medieval  Latin  treat- 
ises. Of  these  in  the  English  the  popular  forms  are  aab-ccb,  aab- 
ccd,  aaab-cccb,  and  aaab-cccd  for  lyrics,  and  lines  riming  in  coup- 
lets, tercets,  or  quadruplets  for  serious  poems,  both  usually 
iambic.  To  illustrate  the  extent  to  which  the  English  stanza- 
forms  are  taken  from  the  Medieval  Latin,  the  simplest  method 
will  be  to  list  several  of  the  poems  in  accessible  collections  under 
the  appropriate  heading. 

Two  iambics,  bimembris,  with  three  iambic  differentia. 

I  was  not  past 
Not  a  stones  cast 

So  nygb  as  I  could  deme. 
But  I  dyd  see 
A  goodly  tree 

Within  an  herbor  grene.' 

*  Confeano  Ooliardi,  from  Carmina  Clericorum,  Heilbronn,  1876. 

»  Hazlitt,  EMrly  Popular  Poetry,  iii,  187,  Armonye  of  Byrdes,  Third  s 


150  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Two  iambics,  trimembris,  with  two  iambic  diflFerentia. 

In  an  arbour 
Late  as  I  were. 
The  fowls  to  hear 

Was  mine  intent. 
Singing  in  fere. 
With  notes  clear. 
They  made  good  cheer. 

On  boughes  bent.^ 

Three  iambics,  trimembris,  with  three  iambic  differentia. 

In  this  tyme  6f  Christm^ 
Bytw^xte  an  oie  and  an  ksse 
A  m^yden  del;^uered  wis 

Of  Christ  her  dfire  son  dfire. 
The  hilsband  6f  Mary 
(Saint)  J6seph  stdode  her  b^ 
And  s^de  he  wsLs  ready 

To  sfirue  her  if  nede  wSre.' 

Four  iambics,  bimembris,  with  three  iambic  differentia.  This  is 
the  very  common  narrative  stanza,  used  in  Sir  Thopas. 

Pope,  kyng,  and  emperoure, 
Byschope,  abbot,  and  prioure. 

Parson,  preste,  and  knyght. 
Duke,  erle,  and  ilk  baron 
To  serve  syr  Peny  are  they  boune. 

Both  be  day  and  nyght.^ 

The  spondaic  forms  are  much  rarer,  but  as  an  example  of  dispond- 
eus  trimembris  with  iambic  differentia,  there  is  that  of  Anthony 
Wydville,  Lord  Rivers.* 

Somewhat  musing. 
And  more  mourning. 
In  remembering 

The  unsteadfastness; 

^  Arber,  Dunbar  Anthology,  193,  Thomas  Feilde's  Lover  and  a  Jay. 

*  Anglia,  xii,  588.    The  accents  are  my  own. 

*  Hazlitt,  op.  cit.,  i,  161. 

*  Arber,  Dunbar  Anthology,  180. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  151 

This  World  being 
Of  such  wheeling. 
Me  contrarying. 
What  may  I  guess? 

I  fear,  doubtless. 
Remediless, 
Is  now  to  cease 

My  woeful  chancel 
For  unkindness, 
Withouten  less. 
And  no  redress. 

Me  doth  advance. 

With  displeasance,  etc. 

This  last  is  interesting  not  only  as  being  spondaic  in  movement 
but  from  the  fact  that  the  rime  in  the  differentia  becomes  the  a  in 
the  succeeding  verse.  This  peculiarity  is  called  cum  consonaniia 
sequenie  immediate,^  or  caudati  continentes.^  This  same  device 
is  used  in  the  Justes  of  the  Moneths  of  May  and  June. 

The  moneth  of  May  with  amerous  beloued 
Hasauntly  past  wherein  there  hath  been  proud 
Feates  of  armes  and  no  persones  reproued 
That  had  courage 

In  armoure  bryght  to  shewe  theyr  personage 
On  stedes  stronge  sturdy  and  corsage 
But  rather  praysed  for  theyr  vasellage 
As  reason  was 

In  whiche  season  thus  fortuned  the  cace 

A  lady  fayre  moost  beautyuous  of  face 

With  seruauntes  foure  brought  was  into  a  place  staged  about 

Whereon  stode  lordes  and  ladyes  a  grete  route  .  .  etc.* 

As  this  poem  describes  the  jousts  held  by  Charies  Brandon,  Giles 
Capell  and  William  Hussey  in  May  and  June,  1507,  according  to 

*  Man.  op.  eit.,  460. 

*  Mari.  op.  eit.,  404.    Caudati  autem  continentes  dicuntur  cum  cauda  praece* 
dentis  cum  consonanciis  sequentis  concordat  per  omnem  rithmorum  seriem. 

'  Hazlitt,  op.  eit.,  ii,  113. 


152  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  title,  it  shows  that  also  in  the  sixteenth  century  the  Medieval 
Latin  influence  persisted.  But  the  use  of  the  pentameter  indicates 
the  anglicization  of  the  measure.  And  the  popularity  of  this  type 
may  be  indicated  by  the  fact  that  the  majority  of  the  poems  in  the 
Songs  and  Carols,  edited  by  Wright,  is  in  this  category. 

Two  variants  of  the  type  may  be  worth  the  mentioning,  although 
both  are  obvious  at  a  glance.  The  first  is  rithmus  cum  dwplici 
differentia,  where,  instead  of  a  single  line  cauda,  the  differentia  is 
double.^ 

Vita  iusti  gloriosa, 
mors  ut  esset  preciosa, 

apud  Deum  meruit; 

et  qui  sibi  viluit 
a  datore  gratiarum 
cum  fine  miseriarum 

gratiam  obtinuit, 

et  decorem  induit. 

And  the  second  is  where  the  differentia,  either  single  or  double,  is 
repeated  as  a  refrain.  This  is  usual  in  carols  and  songs.  In  Eng- 
lish examples  of  these  are  found  as  late  as  in  the  Lusty  JuventiLS 
(circ.1540).    Juventus  makes  his  entrance  singing.^ 

In  a  Herber  grene,  a  sleepe  where  as  I  lay. 

The  byrdes  sang  sweete  in  the  myddes  of  the  day 

I  dreamed  fast  of  myrth  and  play 

In  youth  is  pleasure,  in  youth  is  pleasure. 

Me  thought  as  I  walked  stil  to  and  fro. 

And  from  her  company  I  could  not  go. 

But  when  I  waked  it  was  not  so. 

In  youth  is  pleasure,  in  youth  is  pleasure. 

Therefore  my  hart  is  surely  pyght. 

Of  her  alone  to  haue  a  sight. 

Which  is  my  ioy  and  hartes  delyght. 

In  youth  is  pleasure,  in  youth  is  pleasure.    Finis. 

This  is  quite  clearly  iambic  tetrameter,  trimembris,  with  duplici 
differentia,  repeated.  So  true  is  this,  that  it  enables  us  to  reject 
the  foot  a  sleepe  in  the  first  line,  as  an  intrusion  of  the  typesetter. 

^  Mari,  op.  cit,  426. 

*  The  text  of  these  two  songs  is  taken  from  Mr.  Wever's  edition  in  the  T'udor 
Facsimile  Texts  series. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  158 

The  text  of  the  second  song  in  the  play,  is,  however,  in  a  still 
worse  condition,  suggesting  cynical  deductions  concerning  the 
state  of  affairs  in  the  printing  establishment  of  John  Awdely 
dwelling  in  Uttle  Britayne  strete  without  Aldersgate. 

Why  should  not  youth  f ulfyll  his  owne  minde 

As  the  course  of  nature  doth  him  binde. 

Is  not  euery  thing  ordained  to  do  his  kinde? 

Report  me  to  you,  report  me  to  you. 

Do  not  the  floures  spring  fresh  and  gay. 

Pleasant  and  swete  in  the  month  of  May? 

And  when  their  time  commeth  they  fade  away. 

Report  me  to  you,  reporte  me  to  you. 

Be  not  the  trees  in  wynter  bare? 

Like  unto  their  kind,  such  they  are. 

And  when  they  spring  their  fruites  declare 

Reporte  me  to  you,  report  me  to  you. 

What  should  youth  do  with  the  fruits  of  age. 

But  Hue  in  pleasure  in  this  passage. 

For  when  age  cometh  his  lustes  will  swage 

Reporte  me  to  you,  report  me  to  you. 
t 
The  first  stanza,  here,  requires  considerable  adjustment  before 
it  returns  to  the  original  state.  As  blame  for  these  errors  should 
not  lie  with  the  author,  but  with  the  printer,  these  poems  furnish 
interesting  examples  of  the  charm  and  melody  of  the  medieval 
form  in  a  late  state.  And,  as  has  been  said  before,  the  content  is 
simple  and  the  medium  obvious.  The  Medieval  Latinist  com- 
posed with  major  chords. 

Fortunately  there  is  summed  up  in  one  poem  most  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  type,  so  that  it  may  be  considered  as  an 
epitome  of  Medieval  Latin  influence,  the  Nuthrovme  Mayde.  Like 
so  much  of  the  work  that  we  have  been  discussing,  it  is  anonymous. 
Skeat  assumes  that  it  was  written  by  a  woman,  largely  because  it 
differs  from  much  of  medieval  work  in  presenting  the  woman's 
side  of  the  case.  But  as  the  author  in  the  debate  assumes  the  male 
part,  reasoning  from  the  effect  of  the  poem  as  a  whole  does  not 
seem  conclusive.  Rather  there  is  a  renaissance  feeling  of  the  im- 
portance of  woman.  Nor  is  the  cause  for  its  composition  any 
clearer.  It  appears  as  an  insertion  for  the  first  time  in  Arnold's 
Chronicle  (circ.  1502),  a  curious  collection  of  miscellaneous  informa- 
tion, between  an  account  of  the  tolls  to  be  paid  by  English  mer- 


154  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

chan'cs  sending  goods  to  Antwerp  and  a  statement  of  the  differences 
of  English  and  Flemish  currencies.  No  comment  is  offered.  Natur- 
ally it  is  to  be  found  again  in  the  second  edition  of  the  Chronicle, 
1520.  It  must,  however,  have  circulated  in  a  separate  form,  as  on 
February  17th.,  1520,  John  Dome  sold  a  copy  of  it  for  one  penny. 
During  the  eighteenth  century  it  was  published  several  times, 
probably  owing  to  the  celebrity  it  received  from  Prior's  imitation 
of  it,  Henry  and  Emma.  The  result  has  been  that  it  is  one  of  the 
best  known,  if  not  the  most  read,  poems  of  the  period.  Mr.  A.R. 
Waller  speaks  of  it  as  "in  itself  sufl&cient,  in  form  and  music  and 
theme,  to  'make  the  fortune'  of  any  century."  ^ 

Probably  part  of  the  enthusiasm  aroused  by  the  poem  is  due  to 
the  mystery  surrounding  the  accident  of  its  birth.  Douce,  in  his 
edition  of  the  Chronicle  in  1811,  conjectured  that  it  was  a  trans- 
lation from  the  German.  This  conjecture  has  a  measure  of  plausi- 
bility because,  as  Arnold  traded  with  the  Low  Countries,  he  might 
have  found  a  version  there.  The  great  objection  to  it  is  that,  since 
Douce's  suggestion  a  hundred  years  ago,  no  such  German  original 
has  been  found.  Nor  should  the  source  be  sought  in  popular 
literature,  Teutonic  or  otherwise.  As  Gummere  says  emphati- 
cally: ^  "The  famous  Nut  Brown  Maid,  for  example,  a  spirited 
and  charming  dramatic  poem  long  ago  laid  to  the  credit  of  some 
woman  as  her  oratio  pro  domo,  her  plea  for  the  constancy  of  the 
sex,  has  not  the  faintest  claim  to  its  position  in  many  a  collection 
of  popular  traditional  verse."  And  an  analysis  of  the  poem  will 
justify  Gummere's  conclusion. 

Li  content  the  Nut  Brovm  Maid  gives  a  late  medieval  view 
of  the  perfect  woman,  belonging  to  the  same  class  as  does  the 
Clerkes  Tale  of  Chaucer.  There,  it  will  be  remembered,  patient 
Griselda  serves  as  a  model  for  all  rebellious  wives.  The  woman 
of  the  Proverbs  is  outdone!  The  Marquis  of  Saluzzo,  after  marry- 
ing a  woman  of  low  degree,  determines  to  try  her  fortitude.  Thif 
he  does  by  depriving  her  of  her  children,  by  announcing  that  he 
will  take  a  new  wife,  by  driving  her  from  the  palace  in  only  her 
smock,  and  finally  by  demanding  that  she  prepare  all  things  in 
joyous  preparation  for  her  supposed  successor.  Through  it  all 
Griselda  passes  triumphant. 

1  Cambridge  History  of  Eng.  Lit.  ii,  486-7. 
»  Cambridge  Hist.  Eng.  Lit.,  ii,  463. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  165 

Men  speke  of  lob  and  most  for  his  humblesse. 
As  clerkes,  whan  hem  list,  can  wel  endyte. 
Namely  of  men,  but  as  in  soothfastnesse. 
Though  clerkes  preyse  wommen  but  a  lyte, 
Ther  can  no  man  in  humblesse  him  acquyte 
As  womman  can,  he  can  ben  half  so  trewe 
As  wommen  been,  but  it  be  falle  of-newe.* 

Much  the  same  trials,  although  purely  imaginary,  does  the  Nut 
Brown  Maid  experience.  Her  lover  tells  her  that  he  will  fly  to 
the  greenwood  to  be  an  outlaw,  that  if  she  follows  him  she  will 
lose  her  reputation,  that  she  will  be  in  danger,  that  she  will  suffer 
hardships,  and  finally  that  he  has  a  mistress  there  already.  Since 
none  of  these  affect  her  constancy,  the  result  is 

Thus  haue  ye  wone 

An  erles  son/ 

And  not  a  banysshyd  man. 

Of  course  the  immediate  original  may  be  a  Teutonic  piece,  but  as 
the  original  of  the  Chaucer  is  from  Petrarch,  and  as  Petrarch  had 
an  European  vogue,  in  the  case  of  so  similar  a  conception  there 
is  no  need  to  limit  the  hypothetic  source  to  one  nationality,  or 
even  to  assume  that  the  present  poem  is  not  the  first. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  nationality  of  the  original 
author,  the  presumption  is,  provided  that  the  English  version 
represents  it  fairly,  that  he  was  familiar  with  the  Medieval  Latin 
treatises.  Whereas  Petrarch  employs  Latin  prose  narration,  the 
Nvi  Brown  Maid  is  in  the  form  of  the  conflictus.  The  poem  is  a 
dialogue  between  the  author  and  the  reader,  in  which  each  plays 
a  definite  part.  The  author  is  the  lover,  and  the  audience  the 
Maid.2 

Than  betwene  vs 
Lete  vs  discusse 
What  was  all  the  maner 
Betwene  them  too: 

» Skeaf  •  Chaucer,  iv.  417. 

'The  quotations  from  the  Nvi  Brown  Maid  are  taken  from  Hazlitt's  Eiarly 
Popular  Poetry  of  England,  ii,  272.  His  text  is  based  on  collations  from  the  editions 
of  1502  and  1520.  This  stanza  form  is  very  similar  to  the  famous  drinking  song  in 
Oammer  Ourton't  Needle. 


156  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

We  wyl  also 

Telle  all  the  peyne  in  fere 

That  she  was  in/ 

Nowe  I  begynne 

Soo  that  ye  me  answere/ 

Wherefore  ye 

That  present  be 

I  pray  you  geue  an  eare/ 

I  am  the  knyght/ 

I  cum  be  nyght 

As  secret  as  I  can/ 

Sayng  alas/ 

Thus  stondyth  the  case/ 

I  am  a  bannisshed  man.^ 

From  here  on  each  alternate  stanza  presents  the  man's  case,  the  al- 
ternating stanzas  replying  with  that  of  the  woman,  the  final  stanza 
returning  to  the  original  narrative  position.  The  stanzas  them- 
selves are  iambic  dimeters,  iambic  trimeter  differentia.  The 
differentiae  rime  four  times.  Thus  in  both  form  and  content  the 
poem  follows  the  precepts  of  the  Medieval  Latin. ^ 

As  such  stanzas  as  those  of  the  Nut  Brown  Maid,  where  there  are 
both  the  differentia  and  the  refrain,  are  closely  allied  to  musical 
forms,  the  appUcation  of  the  Medieval  Latin  precepts  to  the 
English  lyrics  seems  logical.  That  it  is  equally  true  in  the  case  of 
the  many-rimed,  short-lined  verse  paragraph  called  the  Skeltonian 
meter,  remains  to  be  shown.  After  dealing  with  anonymous 
writers,  unknown,  unsexed,  it  is  with  relief  that  one  turns  to  the 
rugged  personality  of  Skelton.  Here  at  least,  however  much  you 
may  dislike  the  type  of  work,  you  are  dealing  with  a  man. 

His  poem,  the  Bouge  of  Court,  which  belongs  to  the  formal  lit- 
erary tradition,  has  been  discussed,^  and  the  suggestion  was  there 
made  of  his  relations  with  the  court.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
Skelton  was  praised  for  his  learning  by  Caxton,  and  correctly, 

^  As  in  this  stanza  the  author  assumes  the  masculine  part,  I  fail  to  see  wherein 
lies  the  internal  evidence  for  feminine  authorship. 

^  The  close  relation  between  the  Nut  Brown  Maid  and  the  Latin  of  the  Church 
is  illustrated  in  the  New  Nut  Brovm  Maid,  where  in  much  the  same  phraseology  and 
in  the  same  stanza  form  the  dialogue  is  between  the  Virgin  and  the  Christ.  The 
first  edition  is  by  John  Scott,  1537.  Reprinted,  Hazlitt,  iii,  2.  Apparently  it  is  an 
attempt  to  utilize  a  popular  piece  for  pious  purposes. 

*  Chapter  ii. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  157 

since  apparently  he  had  been  given  degrees  by  three  universities. 
So  far  then  as  there  is  value  in  academic  recognition,  Skelton  was 
quite  rightly  regarded  as  one  of  the  learned  men  of  his  age.  That 
the  poet  himself  was  conscious  of  these  attainments,  is  equally  cer- 
tain. In  reading  his  poems  you  are  never  allowed  to  forget  that 
the  author  has  enjoyed  all  the  advantages  that  the  quadrivium 
and  the  trivium  could  afford.  Latin  tags,  Latin  allusions,  even 
Latin  reminiscences  occur  at  frequent  intervals.  In  the  Garland 
of  Laurel  he  imagines  himself  received  by  the  writers  of  all  time. 
And  a  curious  collection  they  are !  Quintillian,  Theocritus,  Hesiod, 
Homer,  Cicero,  Sallust,  Ovid,  Lucan,  Statins,  Persius,  Vergil,  Ju- 
venal, Livy,  Aulus  Gellius,  Terence,  Plautus,  Seneca,  Boethius, 
Maximianus,  Boccaccio,  Quintus  Curtius,  Macrobius,  Poggio, 
Gaguin,  Plutarch,  Petrarch,  Lucilius,  Valerius  Maximus,  Vincent- 
ius,  Propertius,  Pisander,  and  the  three  English  poets,  Gower, 
Chaucer,  and  Lydgate.  A  somewhat  similar,  although  not  identi- 
cal, catalogue  is  given  in  Philip  Sparrow.  If  this  may  be  considered 
as  a  list  of  reading  to  any  degree  typical  of  academic  training  it 
raises  curious  doubts  in  the  mind  of  the  modem.  The  extent  of 
his  reading  is  surpassed  only  by  his  entire  lack  of  critical  discrimi- 
nation. Poetry,  drama,  and  prose,  Greek  and  Latin,  ancient  and 
modem,  poets  and  poetasters  are  all  piled  pell  mell.  And  the 
greater  proportion  of  it  is  in  classical  Latin.  Greek  authors  are 
but  slightly  mentioned  (and  these  were  probably  read  in  transla- 
tion), of  the  Italian  humanists  he  knows  but  three,  and  there  is 
but  one  Frenchman.^  Such  was  the  knowledge  of  the  past  at  the 
opening  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  classics  were  by  no  means 
forgotten. 

On  the  other  hand,  however  extensive  may  have  been  Skelton's 
knowledge  of  classical  literature,  it  was  surely  not  intensive.  The 
medley  of  authors  just  quoted  from  the  Garland  of  Laurel  by  no 
means  shows  the  nice  discrimination  of  a  scholar.  It  savors  of  sac- 
rilege to  mention  Homer  and  Virgil  in  the  same  breath  with  Lucilius 

*  Perhaps  it  is  Decessary  to  point  out  that  to  Skelton  all  these  authors  wrote  in 
Latin,  that  he  shows  no  knowledge  of  the  Italian.  To  the  sixteenth  century  hu- 
manist, Petrarch  was  the  author  of  the  Africa,  etc.,  Boccaccio  of  De  Oenealogia 
Deorum,  etc.,  and  Poggio  of  the  Facetiae.  Forgetting  this  cardinal  fact  some  mod- 
em writers  have  lamented  that  he  did  not  imitate  Petrarch,  the  Petrarch  of  th« 
RinuJ 


158  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

and  Vicentius !  And  although  Philip  Sparrow  is  a  dramatic  mono- 
logue put  into  the  mouth  of  a  young  girl,  the  medieval  confusion  of 
scriptural,  classical,  and  imaginary  authors  and  characters  seems 
typical  of  Skelton  himself.  He  belongs  to  the  former  age  and  is 
not  favorable  to  the  men  of  the  "new  learning".  At  least  that  is 
my  interpretation  of  the  significant  omission  of  certain  names  in 
his  list.  The  Garland  of  Laurel  fortunately  may  be  definitely 
dated.  It  is  limited  on  one  side  from  the  fact  that  it  was  published 
in  1523;  on  the  other,  since  Colin  Clout  and  the  Magnyfycence  are 
both  mentioned,  it  could  not  have  been  composed  much  before 
1520.  But  by  1520  the  English  humanists  were  in  full  flower. 
Grocyn  was  dead,  Linacre  had  published  his  Galen,  Colet  had 
founded  his  school,  Lily  had  been  teaching  there  eight  years. 
More  had  published  his  Utopia,  and  Erasmus  had  become  a  world 
figure.  Yet  none  of  these  appear.  It  is  impossible  that  he  should 
not  have  known  them,  or  at  least  of  them  and  their  work.  Lin- 
acre, for  example,  was  a  tutor  to  Prince  Arthur  certainly  part  of 
the  time  that  Skelton  held  the  same  position  with  Prince  Henry. 
And  with  the  various  academic  degrees  which  Skelton  held,  it  is 
scarcely  probable  that  he  was  at  no  time  brought  into  definite  rela- 
tion with  some  member  of  the  group.  But  his  feeling  toward  them 
was  apparently  the  reverse  of  cordial.  Bale  records  the  beginning 
of  some  verses  attacking  Lily,  Lily's  response  to  which  has  been 
preserved.^  The  test  was  apparently  his  attitude  toward  Greek. 
He  was  thoroughly  out  of  sympathy  with  the  contention  of  Colet 
and  Erasmus  that  Greek  should  be  studied  for  its  religious  value. 
This  at  once  lends  significance  to  his  acclaiming  himself  the  Brit- 
ish Catullus,  without  mentioning  Horace.^  He  felt,  truly  enough, 
that  the  introduction  of  Greek  into  the  schools  would  be  the  end 
of  the  old  curriculum.  This  at  least  is  his  attitude  in  the  passage 
from  Speke,  Parrot; ' 

"Motion  colon  agaton,* 
Quod  Parato 
In  Qraeoo. 

*  Dyce  1,  xzxvii. 

*  Verses  cited  p.  23S. 
»  Dyce,  2,  8-9. 

*  Does  this  transliteration  of  the  Greek  imply  that  the  first  printer  of  the  poem 
had  no  Gredc  font? 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  159 

Let  Parrot,  I  pray  you,  haue  lyberte  to  prate. 

For  aurea  lingua  Oraeca  ought  to  be  magnifyed, 
Yf  it  were  cond  perfytely,  and  after  the  rate, 

Aa  lingua  Lalina,  in  scole  matter  occupyed; 

But  our  Grekis  theyr  Greke  so  well  haue  applyed. 
That  they  cannot  say  in  Greke,  rydynge  by  the  way. 
How,  hosteler,  fetche  my  hors  a  botell  of  hay! 

Nesrther  frame  a  silogisme  in  phrisesomorunij 

Formaliter  et  Graece,  cum  medio  termino: 
Our  Grekys  ye  walow  in  the  washbol  Argolicorum; 

For  though  ye  can  tell  in  Greke  what  is  phormio. 

Yet  ye  seeke  out  your  Greke  in  Capricomio; 
For  they  (ye?)  scraps  out  good  scripture,  and  set  in  a  gall. 
Ye  go  about  to  amende,  and  ye  mare  all. 

Some  argue  secundum  quid  ad  nmpliciter. 
And  yet  he  wolde  be  rekenyd  pro  Areopagila; 

And  some  make  distinctions  multipliciler. 

Whether  Ua  were  before  non,  or  nan  before  ita. 
Nether  wise  nor  well  lemid,  but  like  hermaphrodita: 

Set  Sophia  asyde,  for  euery  Jack  Raker 

And  euery  mad  medler  must  now  be  a  maker. 

In  Academia  Parrot  dare  no  probleme  kepe; 

For  Graece  fari  so  occupyeth  the  chayre. 
That  Latinum  fari  may  fall  to  rest  and  slepe. 

And  Syllogisari  was  drowned  at  Sturbrydge  fayre; 

Tryuyals  and  quatryuyals  so  sore  now  they  appayre^ 
That  Parrot  the  popagay  hath  pytye  to  beholde 
How  the  rest  of  good  lemyng  is  roufled  up  and  trold. 

Albertus  de  modo  significandi. 

And  Donatus  be  dryuen  out  of  scole; 
Frisians  hed  broken  now  handy  dandy. 

And  Inter  didascolos  is  rekened  for  a  fole; 

Alexander,  a  gander  of  Menanders  pole. 
With  Da  Cansales,  is  cast  out  of  the  gate. 
And  Da  Racionales  dare  not  shew  his  pate. 

PlauH  in  his  comedies  a  chyld  shall  now  reherse. 

And  medyll  with  Quintylyan  in  his  Declamacyons, 
And  Pety  Caton  can  scantly  construe  a  verse. 

With  Aveto  in  Graceco,  and  such  solempne  salutacyons. 

Can  skantly  the  tensia  of  bis  coniugacyons; 
Settynge  theyr  myndys  so  moche  of  eloquens. 

That  of  theyr  scole  maters  lost  is  the  hole  sentens." 


160  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

This  passage  is  interesting  as  defining  exactly  Skelton's  position. 
He  is  partly  jealous  of  Greek  as  aflFecting  the  study  of  Latin  and 
partly  he  is  afraid  of  it  as  an  instrument  of  scriptural  reform.  He 
is  thus  necessarily  an  opponent  of  the  group  of  English  humanists. 
This  is  one,  then,  of  the  peculiarities  of  Skelton's  position. 
Although  he  can,  and  occasionally  does,  write  humanistic  Latin, 
he  is  far  from  being  a  humanist.^  The  same  is  true  as  to  his  place 
in  the  English  tradition.  His  Bouge  of  Court  is  an  interesting 
individual  modification  of  the  conventional  type  of  court  allegory.^ 
Consequently  we  find  him  echoing  the  conventional  criticism  in 
regard  to  the  conventional  trilogy  of  English  authors.  Gower 
"first  garnished  our  Englysshe  rude,"  then  Chaucer  polished  it, 
and  Lydgate  added  the  finishing  touches.'  Owing  to  its  early 
date,  Gower's  English  is  useless  as  a  model,  however  excellent 
may  be  the  content  of  his  poems;  Chaucer,  on  the  contrary,  is 
still  available. 

His  tennes  were  not  darke. 

But  pleasaunt,  easy,  and  playne; 

No  worde  he  wrote  in  vayne.* 

Lydgate  "wryteth  after  an  hyer  rate"  since  it  is  difficult  to  under- 
stand his  precise  meaning.  This  is  the  stock  criticism  of  the  early 
sixteenth  century.  With  a  man  uttering  such  views,  it  is  natural 
to  expect  the  use  of  the  rime-royal  as  a  stanza  form.  Actually  he 
uses  it  not  only  in  the  longer  poems,  such  as  the  Bouge  of  Court 
and  the  Garland  of  Laurel,  but  also  for  satire,  as  in  the  poems 
against  Garnesche  and  in  Speke,  Parrot,  for  love  pieces  and  poems 
on  meditation.  Not  so  normal  are  his  experiments,  where  in  one 
poem.  The  Auncient  Acquaintance,  he  preserves  the  rime-scheme, 
although  using  lines  with  six  accents,  or  with  four  accents 
as  in  the  attack  upon  Mistress  Anne.  In  this  latter  form  is  the 
dramatic  song  My  darlyng  dere,  where  the  short  lines  lend  them- 
selves to  vivid  compression  and  swift  narrative.  Here,  from  the 
dramatic  opening  to  the  brutal  ending,  Skelton's  own  eulogy  of 

1  Cf.,  Chapter  IV. 

»Cf.    Chapter  IL 

'  The  passage  is  quoted  at  length,  page  58. 

*  It  may  be  assumed  here  that  Skelton  is  echoing  Caxton's  views  as  expressed 
in  his  edition  of  the  House  of  Fame.  The  reader  is  referred  to  Lounsbury's  seventh 
chapter  where  the  Caxton  is  quoted. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  16J 

Chaucer  may  be  applied  to  himself, — ^no  word  he  wrote  in  vain. 
And  this  is  the  more  worthy  of  comment  as  such  work  is  not  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  usual  conception  of  Skelton's  manner.  One  more 
characteristic  of  this  division  of  his  poems  may  be  added.  Skel- 
ton  is  curiously  affected  by  the  old  EngUsh  love  for  alliteration. 
In  the  poems  against  Garnishe, 

Gamyshe,  gargone,  gastly,  giyme, 

it  may  perhaps  be  used  merely  for  the  comic  affect.  That  certainly 
cannot  explain  its  appearance, 

I  wayle,  I  wepe,  I  sobbe,  I  sigh  ful  sore, 

in  the  elegy  on  the  death  of  the  Eari  of  Northumberland,  nor  its 
employment  in  the  attack  upon  Mistress  Anne. 

Womanhod,  wanton,  ye  want; 

Youre  medelyng,  mastres,  is  manerles; 
Rente  of  yll,  of  goodnes  skant. 

Ye  rayll  at  ryot,  recheles: 

To  prayse  your  porte  it  is  nedeles; 
For  all  your  drafife  yet  and  youre  dreggys. 
As  well  borne  as  ye  full  oft  tyme  beggys. 

While  of  course  it  is  not  the  old  alliterative  measure,  such  a  line 
as 

What  dremyst  thou,  drunchard,  drousy  pate 

would  need  little  changing  to  make  it  conform  to  the  old  measure. 
It  is  allowable,  I  think,  to  infer  that  Skelton  both  knew  and  was 
affected  by  the  earlier  poetry. 

Actually  it  is  neither  the  humanistic  Latin  nor  the  poetry  of 
the  English  tradition  that  is  associated  with  the  name  of  Skelton. 
His  fiery  genius  found  its  expression  in  poems  formed  on  quite  other 
models.  What  those  models  were  is  easily  inferred  from  his  biog- 
raphy. A  man  very  learned,  yet  born  too  early  for  the  full  tide 
of  humanism  to  have  reached  northern  Europe,  would  naturally 
be  learned  in  the  literature  of  Medieval  I^tin.  When  it  is  added 
that  such  a  man  was  enrolled  in  the  ranks  of  the  Church,  every 
indication  points  to  a  certain  direction.    Consequently  it  is  not 


162  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

surprising  to  find  that  he,  like  the  others,  ambidextrously,  mixes 
Latin  with  his  EngUsh.* 

What  though  ye  can  cownter  Custodi  nosf 

ks  well  it  becomyth  yow,  a  parysh  towne  darken 
To  syng  SospUati  dedit  cegroa.  .  . 

Another  example  is  in  Ware  the  Hawk,^ 

Dir  Dominua  vobiscum. 

Per  aucupium 

Ye  made  your  hawke  to  cum 

Desuper  candelabrum 

Christi  crucifixi 

To  fede  'pon  your  fisty: 

Die,  inimice  crucis  Ckristi, 

Ubi  didicisti 

Facere  hoc, 

Domine  Dawcocke? 

Here  the  Latin  is  used  interchangeably  with  the  English. 

With  this  use  of  Latin  one  would  expect  Skelton  to  show  his 
knowledge  of  the  aureate  language.  He  himself,  in  a  Lydgatian 
mood,  regrets  that  ^ 

My  wordes  vnpuUysht  be,  naklde  and  playne. 
Of  aureat  poems  they  want  ellumynynge. 

But  the  reader  feels  he  is  unjust  to  himself.    Such  a  stanza  as 
the  following  shows  that  he  is  quite  comparable  even  to  Hawes.'* 

Allectuary  arrectyd  to  redres 

These  feuerous  axys,  the  dedely  wo  and  payne 

Of  thoughtfull  hertys  plungyd  in  dystress; 

Refresshyng  myndys  the  Aprell  shoure  of  rayne; 
Condute  of  comforte,  and  well  most  souerayne; 

Herber  enverduryd,  contynuall  fressh  and  grene; 

Of  lusty  somer  the  passyng  goodly  quene.  .  . 

He  then  compares  the  lady's  features  to  the  topaz,  ruby,  sapphire, 
pearl,  diamond,  emerald,  and 

Relucent  smaragd,  obiecte  incomperable. 
1  Dyce,  i,  17.  » Dyce,  i,  164-5.  »  Dyce,  i,  11.  *  Dyce  i,  25. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  163 

This  is  all  rather  quaint,  artificial,  and  affected,  unless  one  realizes 
that  he  was  writing  according  to  the  dictates  of  his  age.  In  the 
same  way  he  uses  repeticioy  as  in  the  Magnyjycence,  where  eight 
successive  Unes  begin  with  the  word  counterfet}  And  occasionally 
he  uses  actual  cryptograms  as  where  he  substitutes  numbers  for 
letters  or  makes  a  jargon  by  transposing  Latin  syllables.  In 
general  it  may  be  said  that  his  knowledge  both  of  the  humanistic 
writers  and  the  older  EngHsh  poets  saved  him  from  the  excessive 
puerility  of  the  worst  of  the  school.  Or  perhaps  there  is  so  much 
more  virility  in  his  work  than  in  that  of  the  others,  that  the 
modem  reader  is  more  charitable  and  the  puerility  passes  by  un- 
noticed. 

In  the  scansion  of  the  line,  to  follow  the  former  order,  Skelton 
uses  the  free  procedure  noticed  before.  This  is  easily  seen 
in  his  most  regular  poem,  the  Bouge  of  Courte.  Here  as  he  is 
writing  the  iambic  pentameter,  theoretically  each  line  should  have 
but  ten  syllables.   This  is  usually  the  case. 

In  autumpne,  whan  the  sonne  in  Virgine 
By  radyante  hete  enryped  hath  our  come; 

Whan  Lima,  full  of  mutabylyte. 

As  emperes  the  dyademe  hath  wome 

Of  our  pole  artyke,  smylynge  halfe  in  scome 

At  our  foly  and  our  vnstedfastnesse; 

The  tyme  whan  Mars  to  werre  hym  dyde  dres  .  . 

W^th  the  exception  of  the  second  line,  where  radyante  was  prob- 
ably a  trisyllable,  every  line  has  exactly  ten  syllables.  That  is 
not  true  of  the  next 

I,  callynge  to  mynde  the  greate  auctorytft, 

nor  of 

His  hede  maye  be  harde,  but  feble  is  his  brayne  •  .  .' 

This  might  be  illustrated  ad  libitum.  Obviously  he  writes  by  ear 
and  provided  tliat  the  accents  fall  correctly,  he  is  little  troubled 
by  an  extra  syllable.  The  fact  that  the  mo<lern  reader  also  is  not 
troubled,  shows  how  completely  the  old  theory  has  been  assimi- 
lated. 

»  Dyce  i,  440.  «  Dyce,  i,  SI. 


164  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

In  stanza  forms  there  is  the  abundance  of  short  riming  lines, 
characteristic  of  the  Medieval  Latin. 

Calliope, 

Aa  ye  may  see. 

Regent  is  she 

Of  poetes  al, 
Whiche  gaue  to  me 
The  high  degre 
Laureat  to  be 

Of  fame  royall,^ 

This  is  iambic  diameter,  trimembris,  with  riming  iambic  diameter. 

So  many  pointed  caps 
Lased  with  double  flaps. 
And  so  gay  felted  hats, 

Sawe  I  never: 
So  many  good  lessdns. 
So  many  good  sermons. 
And  so  few  devocions, 

Sawe  I  never.* 

This  is  iambic  trimeter,  trimembris,  with  diflferentia  repeated. 
The  addresses  to  the  various  ladies  in  the  Garland  are  attractive 
studies  in  the  Medieval  Latin  meters.^  These  are  obviously 
"lyrics"  in  the  sense  only  that  they  are  short  emotional  poems. 
Quite  otherwise  is  it  with  at  least  some  of  the  others;  they  are 
lyrics  in  that  they  were  intended  to  be  sung.  Certainly  that  is 
the  inference  to  be  made  from  the  title  of  the  tract  in  which  they 
are  preserved.  "Here  folowythe  dyuers  Balettys  and  Dyties 
solacyous,  deuysed  by  Master  Skelton,  Laureat."  The  poem  My 
darling  dere  is  headed  by  two  lines  obviously  used  as  a  chorus. 
But  the  question  passes  out  of  the  bounds  of  inference  with  the 
poem  Manerly  Margery  Mylk  and  Ale,  since  the  music,  written 
by  Cornysshe,  has  been  preserved  for  this.*    From  the  music  we 

1  Dyce,  i,  197. 
»  Dyce,  i,  148. 

*  It  is  unnecessary  to  quote  them  since  they  are  easily  accessible  in  the  Oxford 
Book  of  English  Verse  (30  and  31)  amd  similar  collections. 

*  Hawkins,  History  of  Music,  iii,  2.  Ritson's  note,  "  Since  Sir  J.  Hawkins's 
transcript  was  made,  the  ms.  appears  to  have  received  certain  alterations,  occa- 
sioned, as  it  should  seem,  but  certainly  not  authorized,  by  the  over-scrupulous  del- 
icacy of  its  late  or  present  possessor"  is  inexplicable  because  the  changes,  as  re- 
corded by  Dyce,  are  of  the  slightest. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  165 

see  that  it  was  a  three  part  counterpuntal  madrigal.  As  the  second 
voice  supports  alternately  either  the  first  or  third,  the  poem  is  a 
dialogue  on  seduction,  all  voices  mingling  in  the  refrain.  When 
transposed  into  modem  notation,  the  music  is  really  very  attrac- 
tive, with  a  distinct  swing  in  the  refrain.^  The  peculiar  feature  is 
that  to  such  music  should  be  set  a  poem  dealing  so  brutally  with 
such  a  subject.  Again,  although  the  treatises  explicitly  limit  the 
number  of  single  rimes  to  four,  the  stanza  form  here  consists  of 
five  riming  Unes  and  a  couplet.  As  actually,  however,  medieval 
Latin  songs  of  the  tavern  had  five  or  more  lines  riming  together, 
the  presumption  is  strong  that  then,  as  now,  popular  song-writers 
overrode  academic  restraint,  and  that  this,  therefore,  is  a  student- 
enlied  rather  than  a  lyric.  Although  Comysshe  was  a  member 
of  the  Chapel  Royal,  it  seems  unlikely  that  such  a  song  could  be 
sung  before  a  mixed  audience,  even  in  the  Court  of  Henry  VII. 
Rather,  it  must  be  regarded  as  a  rare  example  of  the  popular  song 
of  the  day. 

But  not  only  does  the  music  help  us  to  a  correct  distribution 
of  the  parts  in  the  dialogue,  it  is  of  still  greater  importance  as  in- 
dicating the  pronunciation  and  the  scansion.  For  necessarily  the 
text  must  be  substantially  correct.  In  that  case  it  can  be  stated 
positively  that  the  final  e  was  in  no  instance  pronounced.  So  far 
as  the  number  of  syllables  is  concerned,  the  words  were  read 
nearly  as  they  are  today.  In  modern  spelling  the  lines  in  the 
third  verse  would  read 

By  Christ,  you  shdll  not,  n6  hardly 
I  will  not  b^  japed  bodily. 

They  are  clearly  iambic  tetrameter,  the  last  accent  falling  upon 
the  y  rime.  But  they  illustrate,  also,  the  freedom  used  by  the  six- 
teenth century  author  in  the  number  of  his  syllables,  because, 
musically,  the  two  short  syllables  in  bodily  are  equalized  with  the 
one  long  syllable  in  hardly.  The  same  condition  is  illustrated,  in 
the  extreme,  by  the  fifth  line  of  the  first  stanza, 

Tiilly  valy  str&we,  let  b6  I  s&y. 

Here  the  music  shows  the  poet  not  only  begins  his  line  with  four 
short  syllables,  but  he  throws  his  accent.    He  substitutes  a  num- 

*  For  the  transcription  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Arthur  Hague. 


106  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

ber  of  short  syllables  for  the  anticipated  iambus.  And  in  this, 
with  its  musical  setting,  the  modem  reader  need  feel  no  surprise. 
Exactly  the  same  thing  is  done  in  such  a  university  song  as 

Any  kind  of  mdn  can  make  Alpha  Delta  Phi 
Any  kind  of  m&n  makes  Psi  U,  etc. 

But  this  triple  movement  is  a  far  cry  from  the  "regularity"  of  the 
eighteenth  century. 

Such  poetic  forms  of  Skelton  as  we  have  been  discussing,  how- 
ever interesting  in  themselves,  are  not  those  by  which  he  is  best 
known.  Skeltonical  verse,  or  Skelioniads  as  Drayton  terms  them, 
may  be  illustrated  by  the  beginning  of  Colin  CUnU. 

What  can  it  auayle 
To  dryue  forth  a  snayle. 
Or  to  make  a  sayle 
Of  an  herynges  tayle; 
To  ryme  or  to  rayle. 
To  wryte  or  to  indyte, 
Eyther  for  delyte 
Or  elles  for  despyte; 
Or  bokes  to  compyle 
Of  dyuers  maner  style, 
Vyce  to  reuyle 
And  synne  to  exyle; 
To  teche  or  to  preche. 
As  reason  wyll  reche? 
Say  this,  and  say  that. 
His  hed  is  so  fat. 
He  wotteth  neuer  what 
Nor  whereof  he  speketh; 
He  cryeth  and  he  creketh. 
He  pryeth  and  he  peketh. 
He  chydes  and  he  chatters. 
He  prates  and  he  patters. 
He  clytters  and  he  clatters. 
He  medles  and  he  smatters. 
He  gloses  and  he  flatters; 
Or  yf  he  speake  playne. 
Than  he  lacketh  brayn^ 
He  is  but  a  fole; 
Let  hym  go  to  scole. 
On  a  thre  foted  stole 
That  he  may  downe  syt. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  167 

For  he  lacketh  wyt; 
And  yf  that  he  hyt 
The  nayle  on  the  hede. 
It  standeth  in  no  stede; 
The  deuyll,  they  say,  is  dede. 
The  deuell  is  dede. 

The  form  consists  obviously  of  riming  trimeter  lines  forming  a 
verse-paragraph  closed  by  one  diameter  line.  The  origin  of  so 
marked  a  form  seems  to  have  puzzled  scholars.  And  the  puzzle 
merely  increases  when  it  is  found  both  in  French  Uterature,  as 
ike  frairasie,  and  in  Italian,  as  the  frottola.  Unless  the  hypotheses 
be  adopted  that  either  it  originated  independently  in  three  coun- 
tries, or  that,  originating  in  one,  it  was  borrowed  by  the  other  two, 
a  common  source  must  be  sought.  Clearly  this  common  source  is 
to  be  found  in  the  Medieval  Latin.  Still  more,  in  the  Renaissance 
such  a  form  was  regarded  by  the  humanists  as  being  characteristic 
of  Medieval  Latin.  Consequently  in  the  Epistolae  Obscurorm 
Virorum  the  tetrameter  variety  was  elaborately  parodied.  M. 
Petrus  Negelinus  writes  pathetically.     .  . 

Quamvis  valde  timeo  esse  ita  audax,  quod  debeo  vobis  ostendere  unum  dictamen 
a  me  compositum,  qua  vos  valde  artificialis  in  comfKisitione  metrorum  et  dicta- 
minonun;  .  .  .  Namque  ego  nondum  habeo  bonum  fundamentum,  et  non  sum 
perfecte  instructus  in  arte  pcetria  et  Rhetorica  .  .  .  Quapropter  mitto  vobis  hie 
unum  poema  per  me  compilatum  in  lauden  sancti  Petri,  et  unis  coraponista  qui 
est  bonus  musicus  in  cantu  chorali  et  figuralik  compusuit  raihi  quattuor  voces 
super  illud.  Et  ego  feci  magnam  diligentiam  quod  potui  its  rigmizare,  sicut  est 
rigmizatum  .  .  . 

Sancte  Petre  domine 

nobis  miserere. 

Quia  tibi  dominus 

dedit  cum  istis  clavibus 

Potestatem  maximam, 

necnon  specialem  gratiam 

Super  omnes  sanctos: 

quia  tu  es  privilegiatus. 

Quod  solvis  est  solutum« 

in  terris  et  per  caelum, 

Et  quicquid  hie  ligaveris, 

ligatum  est  in  caelis  .  .  .  etc. 

Here  this  form  of  writing  is  obviously  bound  together  with  poor 
latinity.    Again  and  again  the  authors  return  to  the  attack.    The 


1C8  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

"Obscure  Men**  write  verse  letters,  satires,  lyrics, — and  usuaDy  in 
this  rimed  form.  The  conclusion  is  unavoidable  that  the  eccles- 
iastical party  normally  wrote  in  this  way,  since  otherwise  the  sat- 
ire would  have  lacked  point. 

Fortunately  the  whole  development  of  this  type,  the  original 
Latin,  the  translation  into  English  of  the  fourteenth  century,  the 
modification  of  the  translation  into  the  English  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, may  be  illustrated  by  a  single  poem.  In  the  middle  of  the 
fourteenth  century  in  his  Polychronicon  Higden  inserted  a  rimed 
description  of  Wales.  A  few  of  the  opening  verses  will  show  the 
type.* 

Libtri  finis  nunc  Cambriam 
Prius  tangit  quam  Angliam; 
Sic  propero  ad  Walliam. 
Ad  Priami  prosapiam; 
Ad  magni  Jovis  sanguinem. 
Ad  Dardani  progeniem. 
Sub  titulis  his  quatuor 
Terrae  statum  exordior; 
Primo  de  causa  nominis; 
Secimdo  de  praeconiis; 
Tandem  de  gentis  ritibus; 
Quarto  de  mirabilibus. 
Haec  terra,  quae  nunc  Wallia, 
Quondam  est  dicta  Cambria, 
A  Cambro  Bruti  filio. 
Qui  rexit  banc  dominio:  etc. 

But  in  1387  John  Trevesa,  at  the  request  of  Thomas,Lord  Berkeley, 
translated  the  whole  into  English,  priding  himself  upon  the  exact- 
ness of  the  translation. 

"In  somme  place  I  shall  sette  word  for  worde,  and  actyf  for  actyf,  and  passyf 
for  passif  arowe  right  as  it  stondeth  withoute  chaungynge  of  the  ordre  of  wordes; 
but  in  somme  place  I  must  chaimge  the  ordre  of  wordes  and  sette  actyf  for  passyf 
and  ayenward;  and  in  somme  place  I  muste  sette  a  reson  for  a  worde,  and  telle 
what  it  meneth;  but  for  al  such  chaungyng  the  menyng  shal  stande  and  not  be 
chaunged.  ..."  * 

'  The  text  is  taken  from  the  Polychronicon  Ramdphi  Higden,  Vol.  I,  pp.  S94-S97, 
ed.  by  Churchill  Babington,  and  published  under  the  direction  of  the  Master  of  the 
Rolls,  1865. 

'  Quoted  in  Babington's  ed.  of  Higden,  I,  p.  Ixi. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  169 

With  the  duty  of  a  translator  so  plainly  stated,  the  relation  be- 
tween the  Latin  and  the  English  is  no  longer  in  doubt. 

How  )7e  book  take}?  in  honde 

Wales  to  fore  Engelonde; 

So  I  take  my  tales 

And  wende  for)?  in  to  Walesa 

To  that  noble  brood 

Of  Priamus  his  blood, 

Knoweleche  for  to  wynne  , 

Of  greet  lubiter  his  kynne^ 

For  to  haue  in  mynde 

Dardanus  his  kynde. 

In  J7is  foure  titles  I  fonde 

To  telle  ]>e  state  of  jmt  londe. 

Cause  of  ]>e  name  I  schall  telle. 

And  }jan  preise  )>e  lond  I  welle. 

Than  I  schal  write  wij)  my  p«n 

Alle  Jje  maneres  of  ])e  men. 

Then  I  schal  fonde 

To  telle  mervailes  of  J)e  longe. 

Wales  hatte  now  Wallis, 

And  somtyme  highte  Cambria, 

For  Camber,  Brutes  sone. 

Was  kyng,  and  )7ere  dede  won;  etc. 

But  in  1482,  nearly  a  hundred  years  later,  Caxton  brought  out  the 
Polychronicon  itself  with  Trevesa's  translation.  In  respect  to  this 
last,  in  his  preface  he  says : 

"  I,  William  Caxton,  a  symple  person,  haue  endeuoyred  me  to  wryte  fyrst  ouer 
all  the  sayd  book  of  proloconycon,  and  comewhat  haue  chaunged  the  rude  and  old 
Englyssh,  that  is  to  wete  certayn  wordes  which  in  these  days  be  neither  vsyd  ne 
vnderstanden,  and  furthermore  haue  put  it  in  emprynte  to  thende  that  it  maye  be 
had  and  the  maters  therein  comprised  to  be  knowen."  ^ 

In  other  words,  Caxton  has  modernized  the  book  so  that  it  ac- 
cords with  the  standards  of  his  time.^ 

Now  this  book  taketh  on  honde 

Wales  after  Englond, 

So  take  I  my  tales. 

And  wende  into  Wales, 

To  that  noble  brood 

Of  Priamus  blood. 

'  Quoted  In  Babington's  ed.  of  Higden.    Vol.  I,  p.  Ixiii. 

» Poenu  qf  Walter  Mapea,  ed.  Th.  Wright,  Camden  Society,  p.  S49. 


170  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Knoleche  for  to  wynne 

Of  grete  Jupiters  kynne. 

For  to  have  in  mynde 

Dardanus  kynde. 

In  thise  foure  titles  I  fonde 

To  alle  the  state  of  that  londe; 

Cause  of  the  nam  I  shall  telle; 

And  then  preyse  the  lond  and  welle; 

Then  I  shall  write  with  my  penne 

Alle  the  maners  of  the  menne; 

Thenne  I  shall  fonde 

To  telle  mervailles  of  the  londe. 

Of  the  name,  how  it  is  named  Walis. 

Wales  now  is  called  Wallia, 

And  somtyme  it  heet  Cambria. 

For  Camber  Brutes  sone 

Was  prince,  and  there  dyde  wone,  etc. 

But  this  English  of  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  is  very  like  the 
"doggerel"  of  Skelton,  the  French  of  the  fratrasie,  or  the  Italian 
of  the  frottola. 

If  the  reasoning  be  right,  it  goes  far  to  explain  the  contemptuous 
attitude  toward  Skelton  on  the  part  of  his  contemporaries.  In  the 
vulgar  tongue  Skelton  was  reproducing  forms  and  points  of  view 
that  were  associated  in  the  mind  of  his  age  with  lack  of  dignity 
and  restraint.  Thus  Barclay  writing  the  full-sailed  rime-royal, — a 
measure  sustained  by  the  great  literary  tradition,  goes  out  of  his 
way  to  sneer  at  Skelton's  performance: 

It  longeth  nat  to  my  scyence  nor  cunn3Tige 
For  Phylyp  the  Sparowe  the  (Dirige)  to  synge. 

This  might  easily  be  interpreted  as  a  personal  fling  at  the  author 
by  Barclay;  yet  Skelton  himself  witnesses  that  this  was  a  suf- 
ficiently ordinary  attitude. 

Of  Phillip  Sparow  the  lamentable  fate. 

The  dolefull  deteny,  and  the  carefuU  chaunce, 

Dyuysed  by  Skelton  after  the  funerall  rate; 

Yet  sum  there  be  therewith  that  take  greuaimce. 
And  grudge  thereat  with  frownyng  countenaunce; 

But  what  of  that?  hard  it  is  to  please  all  men; 

Who  list  amende  it,  let  hym  set  to  his  penne.  .  .  . 

Garland  oj  Laurd,  11.   lSi54-1260. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  171 

Yet  Philip  Sparrow  is  a  perfectly  inoflFensive  poem,  and  written 
before  the  great  satires.  This  disdain  must  have  been  due,  then, 
not  to  the  poem  itself,  but  to  the  type  to  which  it  belonged,  a  type 
associated  with  the  unruly  side  of  university  life.  It  is  noticeable 
that  the  Garland  of  Laurel,  Skelton's  apologia  pro  vita  sua,  is  itself 
composed  in  rime-royal.  But  as  if  in  defiance  of  his  critics,  im- 
mediately after  the  passage  quoted  follow  one  hundred  and  fifteen 
lines  in  defense  of  Philip  Sparrow  in  the  Skeltonical  measure !  And 
that  passage  is  itself  broken  by  a  conscious  parade  of  four  Latin 
hexameters.  Here  Skelton  shows  that  he  appreciates  the  force  of 
the  criticism,  that  he  has  the  necessary  learning  to  write  in  the 
manner  of  the  age,  and  that  he  does  not  care  to  do  so. 

With  an  author  of  so  dominant  a  personality  as  that  of  Skelton, 
the  poems  would  differ  also  in  content  from  conventional  work. 
Before  realism  was  invented  he  would  look  out  on  life  with  an  eye, 
shrewd,  perhaps  jaundiced.  With  a  courage  such  as  his,  he  would 
speak  out  plainly.  At  all  events  that  is  clearly  what  Skelton  did ! 
The  result  is  a  long  series  of  attacks  and  refutations.  Nor  is  the 
sympathy  of  the  modern  reader  always  on  the  side  of  the  author. 
Thus,  one  need  not  hold  a  brief  for  the  Court  of  Henry  VII  with- 
out refusing  to  believe  that  it  was  peopled  exclusively  by  such 
characters  as  those  of  the  Bouge  of  Court.  More  did  not  find  it  so 
with  Archbishop  Morton.  Nor  did  Skelton  agree  better  with  the 
scholars.  He  quarreled  with  Lily,  with  Barclay,  with  Gaguin  (one 
of  whose  pieces  Barclay  translated).^  None  of  these  have  sur- 
vived, and  from  the  list  in  the  Garland,  avowedly  incomplete,  we 
learn  of  others  besides  those  that  have  come  down  to  us.  His 
attack  seems  to  have  been  both  general  and  particular,  both  na- 
tional and  individual,  both  jovial  and  bitter.  As  his  poems  against 
Gamesche  are  endorsed  "By  the  kynges  most  noble  commaund- 
ment",  that  was  apparently  a  jesting  match;  and  his  epitaphs  on 
John  Clarke  and  John  Jayberd,  in  however  poor  taste,  were  still 
intended  to  cause  a  smile.  Quite  otherwise  is  his  exultation  over 
the  Scotch  for  the  defeat  at  Flodden  Field.  In  an  entirely  different 
vein  is  his  Ware  the  Hawke,  where,  like  a  hawk,  he  pounces  upon 
a  parson  for  the  truly  objectionable  practice  of  bringing  his  falcon 

'  Defatuia  mumfanu, Englished  by  Barclay  as  Of  Folys  that  ar  ouer  tDorldly,Ja,mie- 
son,  ii,  317.  Brie  notes,  p.  31,  that  the  last  is  perhaps  preserved  in  B.  C.  165b  ma. 
at  Trinity  CoU.  Cambridge. 


172  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

into  the  church  at  Diss.*  What  he  apparently  considered  his 
chief  work,  the  poem  beginning, 

"Apollo  that  whirllid  vp  his  chare,"  * 

has  been  lost.  This  was  so  bitter  that  Skelton  himself  wished  to 
suppress  it,  as  when  Occupacyoun  mentions  it,  the  poet  conunents: 

"With  that  I  stode  vp,  half  sodenly  afrayd; 

Suppleyng  to  Fame,  I  besought  her  grace. 
And  that  it  wolde  please  her,  full  tenderly  I  prayd, 

Owt  of  her  bokis  Apollo  to  rase. 

Nay,  sir,  she  sayd,  what  so  in  this  place 
Of  our  noble  courte  is  ones  spoken  owte. 
It  must  nedes  after  rin  all  the  worlde  aboute. 

God  wrote,  theis  wordes  made  me  full  sad; 

And  when  that  I  sawe  it  wolde  no  better  be^ 
But  that  my  peticyon  wolde  not  be  had. 

What  shulde  I  do  but  take  it  in  gre? 

For,  by  Juppiter  and  his  high  mageste, 
I  did  what  I  cowde  to  scrape  out  the  scrollis, 
Apollo  to  rase  out  of  her  ragman  rollis." 

Although  the  poem  be  lost,  it  is  possible,  to  guess  its  con- 
tents. A  side  note  reads:  Factum  est  cum  Apollo  esset  Cor- 
inthi:  Actus  Apostolorum."  The  Vulgate  gives  the  reference.' 
Apollo  was  a  certain  Jew,  eloquent,  mighty  in  the  scriptures,  and 
fervent  in  the  spirit.  Presumably  Skelton,  taking  him  as  an  ex- 
emplar, spoke  his  mind  freely  on  the  condition  of  the  Church  in 

^  This  peculiar  vice  is  noticed  also  by  Barclay: 

"Another  on  his  fyst  a  Sparhauke  or  fawcon 
Or  else  a  Cokow,  and  so  wastynge  his  shone 
Before  the  auters  he  to  and  fro  doth  wander 
With  euyn  as  great  deuocyon  oas  a  gander" 

Ship  of  Fools,  Jamieson,  i,  221. 

*  Dyce  in  his  note  on  the  passage,  ii,  334  takes  this  as  the  line  from  Chaucer, 
the  first  line  of  the  third  part  of  the  Squire's  Tale.  My  suggestion  is  that  Skelton 
is  punning  on  it.    Chare  is  a  piece  of  work. 

'  Judaeus  autem  quidam,  Apollo  nomine,  Alexandiinus  genere,  vir  eloquens, 
devenit  Ephesiun,  potens  in  scrip turis.  Hie  erat  edoctus  viam  Domini;  et  fervens 
spiritu  loquebatur,  et  docebat  diligenter  ea,  quae  sunt  Jesu,  sciens  tantum  baptisma 
Joannis.    Acts  XVIII,  24-5. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  173 

England.  According  to  his  own  account  the  effect  of  his  remarks 
was  pronounced : 

"That  made  sum  to  snurre  and  snuf  in  the  wynde; 
It  made  them  to  skip,  to  stampe,  and  to  stare, 
Whiche,  if  they  be  happy,  haue  cause  to  beware 
In  ryming  and  raylyng  with  hym  for  to  mell. 
For  drede  that  he  leme  them  there  A,  B,  C,  to  spell."  * 

And  the  last  lines  certainly  suggest  that  the  poem  was  inspired  by 
eloquence  other  than  that  of  St.  Paul  teaching  the  doctrine  of 
the  Christ.2 

It  must  be  confessed  that  such  is  his  mental  attitude,  at  least 
in  the  poems  we  have.  Skelton  is  much  more  interested  in  smiting 
the  enemy  hip  and  thigh  than  he  is  in  preaching  the  doctrine  of 
heavenly  love.  He  is  a  mighty  warrior  before  the  Lord.  His  Latin 
reading  had  not  only  given  him  a  point  of  view  from  which  to  criti- 
cise English  conditions,  it  had  also  furnished  him  models  for  ex- 
ceedingly plain  speaking. 

"The  famous  poettes  saturicall. 
As  Percius  and  luuynall, 
Horace  and  noble  Marciall,"  * 

at  least  with  the  exception  of  Horace,  were  not  restrained.  Mar- 
tial's satires  certainly  are  characterized  by  keen  merciless  dissec- 
tion of  conditions,  extreme  expression  of  his  results,  and  a  com- 
plete disregard  of  the  consequence  to  himself.^  Of  course  to  the 
modem  reader  the  poems  pay  the  penalty  of  all  satire,  namely  that 
they  are  unintelligible  without  notes.  A  realization  of  the  ques- 
tions at  issue,  whether  the  poem  be  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  or 

'  Dyce,  i,  419-20. 

*  In  this  interpretation  I  differ  radically  from  Brie,  op.  cU.,  72:  "muss  eine  satir 
auf  zeitgen5ssische  dichter  (Barclay?)  gewesen,  sein,  in  der  ihire  werke  verspottet 
wurden." 

»  Dyce  i,  ISO. 

*  Thus  Why  Come  Ye  not  io  Court  avowedly  follows  Juvenal,  1207-11; 

"  I  am  forccbly  conatraynod. 
At  luuynals  request. 
To  wryght  of  this  glorious  gest. 
Of  this  vayne  gloryous  best,  ..." 


174  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  Dundady  or  British  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers,  is  first  essen- 
tial before  the  reader  can  appreciate  the  brilliancy  of  the  attack. 
Immediate  success,  gained  by  allusion  to  contemporaneous  per- 
sons and  events,  is  succeeded  by  increasing  oblivion,  as  those  per- 
sons and  events  recede  into  the  past.  Byron's  bitterness  toward 
Scott  is  still  comprehended  by  the  general  reader,  because  the  gen- 
eral reader  still  knows  Scott,  but  who  now  cares  for  Pope's  dunces? 
To  a  very  large  degree,  Shadwell  and  Settle  survive  only  because 
Dryden  attacked  them,  and  his  scathing  lines  on  Buckingham  and 
Shaftesbury  are  most  read  in  books  of  familiar  quotations.  To 
this  general  law  of  satire,  in  Skelton's  case  is  added  the  particular 
disqualification  that  there  is  no  general  agreement  in  regard  to  the 
facts  and  that  feeling  still  runs  high.  The  literary  value  is 
consequently  ignored  in  the  heated  controversy  as  to  the  truth 
of  his  accusations.  On  one  side  he  is  regarded  as  a  coarse  buflFoon 
blaspheming  in  doggerel  verse;  on  the  other  as  an  author  who 
bears  witness  to  the  truth.  Neither  of  these  views  concern  us  here. 
The  only  questions  are,  how  far  he  believed  what  he  said  and  to 
what  extent  he  was  able  to  give  expression  to  his  own  convictions. 
And  whatever  opinion  may  be  held  as  to  the  dignity  of  his  manner, 
or  the  justification  of  his  procedure,  at  least  he  must  be  credited 
with  having  produced  work  that  by  any  criterion  of  literary  crit- 
icism cannot  be  ignored. 

Of  this  type  of  political  poem  there  are  five,  thus  listed  in  the 
edition  of  Dyce:  A  replycacion  agaynst  certayne  yong  scalers  ab- 
iured  of  late,  &c.;  Colyn  Chut;  Speke,  Parrot;  Why  come  ye  not  to 
Courte;  and  Howe  the  douty  Duke  of  Albany,  &c.  The  most  salient 
characteristic  of  these  poems  taken  as  a  group  is  the  obscurity. 
For  this  there  are  three  reasons.  The  first  is  that  to  some  extent 
this  obscurity  was  intentional.  As  has  been  seen  in  the  Bouge  of 
Court,  Skelton  on  one  side  belongs  to  the  school  representing  the 
medieval  tradition,  one  of  whose  critical  tenets  was  that  the  use 
of  "  covert  terms  "  acted  as  a  stimulant  to  the  reader.  But  whereas 
a  conventional  poet,  such  as  Hawes,  merely  resorts  to  allegory, 
Skelton  refines  the  theory  into  cryptogram. 

Loke  on  this  tabull. 
Whether  thou  art  ahull 
To  rede  or  to  spell 
What  these  verses  tell. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  175 

Sicculo  lutueris  est  colo  buraara 
Nixphedras  uisarum  caniuter  tuntantes.^ 

Henry  Bradley,  by  recombining  chosen  syllables,  has  resolved  ^ 
the  Unes  into 

Sic  velut  est  Arabum  phenix  avis  unica  tantum. 

Another  illustration  may  be  found  in  the  Garland,  where  the  letters 
in  the  name  of  his  adversary  are  indicated  by  their  numerical  posi- 
tion in  the  alphabet.  With  a  mind  inclined  naturally  to  such 
ingenuity,  the  temptation  to  deal  in  riddles  must  have  been  over- 
jjowering  in  those  cases  where  the  actions  of  powerful  men  were 
criticised.  Such  a  method  would  be  both  profound  and  safe.  On 
the  other  hand,  in  inverse  proportion  to  the  profundity  of  the 
poem  would  be  its  effect.  Consequently  Skelton  is  torn  between 
two  desires,  first  the  natural  wish  to  escape  the  consequences  of 
too  obvious  expression  of  opinion,  and  secondly,  the  impulse  to 
cast  the  weight  of  his  influence  on  the  side  of  the  right.  When  one 
remembers  both  the  power  of  Wolsey  and  his  elaborate  system 
of  espionage,  it  is  hard  to  restrain  a  thrill  of  admiration  for  this 
literary  David.  The  end  was  of  course  inevitable.  Goliath  fell, 
it  is  true,  but  Skelton  did  not  live  to  see  the  catastrophe  he  had 
helped  to  produce.  In  the  sanctuary  of  St.  Margaret  at  West- 
minister he  dies  beaten,  his  last  words  a  confession  of  failure  as  he 
surrenders  to  the  enemy  dedicating  with  fulsome  superlatives  his 
last  work  to  the  Cardinal.' 

Another  reason  for  the  present  difficulty  in  understanding  the 
poems  in  their  entirety  arises  from  the  first,  and  yet  is  distinct 
from  it.  As  we  do  not  know  the  exact  date  at  which  any  poem 
was  composed,  or  even  published,  we  are  never  sure  to  what  politi- 
cal event  reference  is  made.  With  the  exception  of  a  copy  of  the 
Garland  of  Laurel,  1523,  all  of  the  early  copies  of  the  single  poems 
are  imdated.  As  the  first  edition  with  a  date,  that  of  Thomas 
Marshe,  1568,  is  long  posterior  to  the  composition  of  the  poems, 
there  is  very  little  external  evidence.  It  is  a  happy  chance  that  the 
one  poem  preserved  in  a  dated  issue  is  the  Garland  of  Laurel, 

»  Ware  the  Hauke,  Dyce,  i,  168. 
•The  Academy,  Aug.  1,  1896. 
» Dyce  i.  206. 


176  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Inpryntyd  by  me  Rycharde  faukes  .  .  .  The  yere  of  our  hrde  god. 
M.  CCCCC.  XXIII.  The.  in.  day  of  October.  In  this  long  poem 
to  justify  the  poetic  laurel  awarded  him  by  the  Countess  of  Surrey, 
is  enumerated  "sum  parte  of  Skeltons  bokes  and  baladis  with 
ditis  of  pleasure,  in  as  moche  as  it  were  to  longe  a  proces  to  re- 
herse  all  by  name  that  he  hath  compylyd."  Here,  then,  we  have 
a  list  of  poems,  although  admittedly  not  exhaustive,  that  is 
authentic  and  the  poems  of  which  must  have  been  composed  be- 
fore October  3rd,  1523.  Yet,  of  the  five  poems  grouped  above, 
two  only  are  mentioned.  There  is  little  external  evidence  to 
guide  us. 

There  is  yet  another  reason  that  invalidates  the  dating  from 
the  mention  of  the  poems  in  the  Garland,  namely  Skelton's  manner 
of  composition.  It  is  inferentially  probable  that  at  least  three  of 
the  poems  are  composites,  formed  from  fragments  written  at 
different  times.  Consequently,  while  there  is  a  certain  unity  in 
tone  throughout  any  poem,  the  references  to  persons  and  events 
seem  confused.  An  illustration  of  this  difficulty  is  SpeJce,  Parrot, 
a  poem  usually  regarded  as  unintelligible.  A  cursory  glance  shows 
that,  instead  of  a  single  poem,  there  is  a  group  of  short  poems, 
several  of  which  seem  to  be  dated.  Thus  one  section  ends  with 
the  line  "Penultimo  die  Octobris,  33°;"  another,  "In  diebus  Nov- 
embris,  34;"  another,  "15  kalendis  Decembris,  34,"  etc.  That 
these  figures  may  refer  to  the  year  of  the  century  is  impossible, 
because  Skelton  died  in  1529;  that  they  may  refer  to  the  year  of 
the  reign  of  Henry  VII  is  equally  impossible,  because  he  was  on 
the  throne  but  twenty-three  years.  Yet,  since  for  years  Skelton 
had  been  an  official  of  the  Court  of  Henry  VII,  and  as  such  must 
have  dated  all  his  official  papers  from  the  accession  of  the  King, 
it  seems  probable  that  for  sentimental  reasons  or  for  the  purpose 
of  concealment  he  continued  the  reckoning.  "Penultimo  die 
Octobris,  33""  becomes  merely  October  30th,  1517.  If  this  be 
true,  Speke,  Parrot  forms  a  running  commentary  on  the  events  in 
the  years  1517  and  1518.  Naturally  at  the  time  when  they  were 
written  they  were  perfectly  comprehensible  to  the  court,  for  whom 
they  were  intended.  So  much  was  this  the  case  that,  in  order  to 
protect  himself  against  a  charge  of  treason,  he  uses  nomenclature 
borrowed  from  the  Book  of  Judges, — with  the  result  that  to  the 
modem  reader  unable  to  date  the  poems  accurately,  the  whole 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  177 

seems  a  farago  of  nonsense.^  Likewise  it  seems  probable  that 
Colin  CloiU  also  was  composed  at  different  times,  and  that  upon  a 
poem,  written  on  general  conditions,  he  grafted  later  additions 
attacking  Cardinal  Wolsey.  The  chronological  order  of  the  five 
satires  probably  is  Speke,  ParroU  1517-1518;  Why  Come  Ye  not  to 
CouH,  1521-23;  The  Duke  of  Albany,  1523;  Colin  CZoi^,— 1525; 
and  the  Replycacion,  1527.^ 

With  these  approximate  dates  for  the  comp>osition  of  the  poems, 
it  is  possible  to  show  Skelton's  conceptions  developing  through 
the  ten  years.  First,  his  position  must  be  remembered.  In  the 
Skelton  of  the  apocryphal  Merie  Tales  we  have  lost  the  real 
Skelton,  chosen  to  be  tutor  to  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal,  praised 
by  Erasmus  for  his  learning,  and  patronized  by  the  great  house  of 
Howard.'  A  priori  such  a  man  would  naturally  be  conscious  of 
the  existence  of  evil  conditions  and  yet  conservative  in  applying 
a  cure.  Naturally  also  he  is  intensely  loyal  to  his  former  pupil, 
the  King. 

Cryat  saue  Kyng  Henry  the  vlii,  our  royall  kyng. 
The  red  rose  in  honour  to  florysh  and  spryngel 

With  Kateryne  incomparable,  our  ryall  queue  also. 
That  pereles  pomegamet,  Chryst  saue  her  noble  grace! 

Speitc,  Parrot,  U.  36-89 

Six  years  later  his  loyalty  is  as  intense  and  more  voluble. 

But  nowe  will  I  expounde 
What  noblenesse  dothe  abounde. 
And  what  honour  is  founde. 
And  what  vertues  be  resydent 
In  our  royall  regent. 
Our  perelesae  president. 
Our  kyng  most  excellent: 

In  merciall  prowes 
Lyke  unto  Hercules; 
In  prudence  and  wysdom 
Lyke  vnto  Salamon; 

*  For  a  detailed  interpretation,  see  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  Vol.  zxx,  lOlA. 

*  Publications  of  the  Modem  Language  Ateociaiion,  December,  1914. 

*  Henry  Bradley  speaks  of  Skelton  as  "that  extraordinary  windbag."  Academy, 
August  1,  1896. 


178  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

In  his  goodly  person 

Lyke  vnto  Absolon; 

In  loyalte  and  foy 

Lyke  to  Ector  of  Troy; 

And  his  glory  to  incres, 

Lyke  to  Scipiades; 

In  royal  mageste 

Lyke  vnto  Ptholome, 

Lyke  to  Duke  losue. 

And  the  valiaunt  Machube, 

That  if  I  wolde  reporte 

All  the  roiall  sorte 

Of  his  nobilyte. 

His  magnanymyte. 

His  animosite. 

His  frugalite. 

His  lyberalite. 

His  affabilite, 

His  humanyte. 

His  stabilite. 

His  humilite. 

His  benignite. 

His  royal  dignyte. 

My  lemying  is  to  small 

For  to  recount  them  all. 

Duke  of  Albany,  11.,  423-458. 

This  appreciation  of  the  royal  virtues  does  not  err  on  the  side  of 
understatement. 

But  this  enthusiasm  for  the  King  does  not  extend  to  conditions 
in  the  kingdom.  In  an  age  of  change  he  is  unable  to  adjust  himself 
to  the  new  ideas.  This  feeling  of  protest  finds  expression — if  so 
cryptic  an  utterance  may  be  called  expression, — in  the  group  of 
poems,  Speke,  Parrot.  The  first  part  of  it  was  obviously  written 
in  the  medieval  manner.  The  verse-form  is  the  rime-royal;  he 
triumphantly  announces  that  it  is  an  allegory. 

But  that  metaphora,  aUegoria  with  all. 

Shall  be  his  protectyon,  his  pauys,  and  his  wall.^ 

Here,  as  we  have  seen,  he  objects  to  the  study  of  Greek  on  the 
ground  that  it  is  both  useless  and  dangerous.  Yet  he  does  not 
stop  at  this  point.    He  passes  on  to  the  really  dangerous  topic  of 

1  Dyce,  ii,  10. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  179 

state  aflPairs.  Thus  whatever  appearance  of  unity  there  is  is  due 
to  the  device  of  putting  widely  different  subject  matters,  written 
at  different  times,  into  the  mouth  of  a  parrot, — ^which  occasionally 
makes  confusion  worse  confounded  by  talking  nonsense.  The 
value  of  this  device  is  at  once  clear;  it  enabled  the  author  to  string 
together  whatever  he  chose,  and  also  to  shirk  the  responsibility 
for  the  interpretation  of  any  part.  The  reader  sees  dangerous 
discussion  of  high  p)olity;  the  author  grins  that  he  sees  too  much, 
that  it  is  only  a  parrot  speaking.  The  conclusion  is  inevitable 
that  the  events  on  which  these  poems  form  a  commentary  and 
the  personalities  alluded  to  under  scriptural  names,  were  so  well- 
known  to  the  public  that  the  poet  feared  to  be  more  open.  The 
key  precedes  the  cypher.  Speke,  Parrot,  then,  marks  a  farther 
step  than  the  Bouge  of  Court  away  from  the  medieval  type.^ 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  resemblance  between  such  work 
as  Speke,  Parrot,  and  this  type  of  medieval  poetry  has  become 
exceedingly  tenuous.  The  complete  severance  is  made  in  the  next 
poem,  Colin  Clout.  Here  the  dream-structure  is  abandoned  in 
favor  of  a  single  dramatic  ego;  personification  and  allegory  change 
to  direct  statement;  and  the  rime-royal  is  abandoned  in  favor 
of  the  Skeltonical  verse.  The  scheme  of  the  poem  is  very 
simple.  Under  the  name  of  Colin  Clouts  the  author  purports 
merely  to  repeat  what  is  being  said: 

"Thus  I,  Colyn  Cloute, 
As  I  go  about. 
And  wandrynge  as  I  walke, 
I  here  the  j>eople  talke."  ' 

Consequently  he  does  not  guarantee  the  truth  of  what  he  hears: 

"  And  eyther  ye  be  to  bad. 

Or  else  they  ar  mad 

Of  this  to  reporte.  .  .  "  ' 

And  he  is  filled  with  indignation  that  they  are  so  loose-tongued : 

"  But,  under  your  supporte, 

Tyll  my  dyenge  day 

I  shall  both  wryte  and  say, 

*  For  further  discussion,  cf.  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  vol.  xxx  (1915). 
» Lines  287-290. 
»  Lines  504-506. 


180  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

And  ye  shall  do  the  same, 
Howe  they  are  to  blame 
You  thus  to  dyffame: 
For  it  maketh  me  sad 
Howe  that  the  people  are  glad 
The  Churche  to  depraue.  .  ."  ^ 

Nor  should  he  be  blamed  because  his  motives  are  the  best: 

"  Make  ye  no  murmuracyon. 
Though  I  wryte  after  this  facion; 
Though  I,  Colyn  Cloute, 
Among  the  hole  route 
Of  you  that  clerkes  be. 
Take  nowe  vpon  me 
Thus  copyously  to  wryte, 
I  do  it  for  no  despyte. 
Wherefore  take  no  dysdayne 
At  my  style  rude  and  playne; 
For  I  rebuke  no  man 
That  vertuous  is:  why  than 
Wreke  ye  your  anger  on  me?"  * 

It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  framework  at  once  more  flexible 
and  more  irritating  than  this.  He  is  the  friend  that  brings  you 
unpleasant  rumors  about  yourself,  because  he  feels  that  you  should 
know  what  is  being  said.  And,  as  we  have  all  found  to  our  sorrow, 
there  is  no  reply  possible.  One  cannot  argue — ^he  does  not  say 
that  he  believes  what  he  says — nor  can  you  object  to  him — ^he 
tells  you  with  the  kindest  of  motives.  You  gnash  your  teeth  in 
silent  fury  while  he  exhorts  you  to  patience.  Even  in  the  con- 
ception of  the  mechanism  of  his  poem  Skelton  is  clever. 

Not  only  is  the  mechanism  irritating,  it  is  also  flexible.  As  he 
pretends  only  to  report,  he  is  enabled  to  discuss  matters  in  any 
order.  In  an  incoherent  way  he  takes  up  the  condition  of  the  whole 
Church.  To  any  thoughtful  observer  the  situation  during  the 
second  decade  of  the  sixteenth  century  seemed  full  of  danger.  The 
pretensions  of  the  Church,  as  voiced  by  the  Pope,  to  supremacy 
in  non-ecclesiastical  affairs,  however  logical  from  medieval  pre- 
cedent, ran  counter  to  the  growth  of  national  feeling  that  tended 
to  exalt  the  monarchical  idea.    This  was  not  peculiar  to  England. 

» Lines  507-515.  *  lanes  1081-1093. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  181 

Previously  the  conflict  between  Louis  XII  of  France  with  the 
papacy  indicated  the  same  condition;  but  a  few  more  years  were 
to  pass  until  Rome  itself  was  to  be  given  to  be  sacked  by  the 
troups  of  the  Spanish  Charles.  Skelton  is  an  acute  diagnostician 
in  selecting  this  as  the  root  of  the  trouble. 

"For,  as  farre  as  I  can  se. 

It  is  WTonge  with  eche  degre: 

"For  the  temporalte 

Accuseth  the  spiritualte; 

The  spirituall  agayne 

Dothe  grudge  and  complayne 

Vpon  the  temporall  men: 

Thus  eche  of  other  blother 

The  tone  agayng  the  tother: 

Alas,  they  make  me  shoder! 

For  in  hoder  moder 

The  Church  is  put  in  faute.  ..."  * 

And  it  is  the  Church  for  which  Skelton,  as  a  member  of  the  Church, 
is  loyally  fighting. 

In  the  conflict  between  these  two  parties,  the  Church  and  the 
State,  Skelton  counsels  that  the  Church  should  give  way.  It  is 
here  that,  like  Erasmus,  he  shows  his  humanistic  bias.  His  learn- 
ing gives  him  sufficient  perspective  to  perceive  that  while  both 
are  in  the  wrong,  the  onus  lies  more  heavily  upon  the  Church.  And 
with  steady  scalpel  he  exposes  the  corruptions.  The  first  criti- 
cism of  the  Church  is  that  it  has  become  parasitic. 

"Laye  men  say  indede 

How  they  take  no  hede 

Theyr  sely  shepe  to  fede. 

But  plucke  away  and  pull 

The  fleces  of  theyr  wull.  ,  . 

All  to  haue  promocyon. 

There  is  theyr  hole  deuocyon. 

With  money,  if  it  wyll  hap. 

To  catche  the  forked  cap  (mitre)  .  .  ."  ■ 

"  And  surely  thus  they  say, 
Bysshoppcs,  if  they  may. 
Small  houses  wolde  kepe, 
Theyr  soules  lene  and  dull, 

*  Lines  50-70.  *  Lines  75-80. 


IBSi  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

But  slumbre  forth  and  slepe. 
And  assay  to  crepe 
Within  the  noble  walles 
Of  the  kynges  halles. 
To  fat  theyr  bodyes  full, 
Theyr  soules  lene  and  dull. 
And  haue  full  lytell  care 
How  euyll  theyr  shepe  fare.  ^ 

Thus  moved  by  an  ambition,  little  spiritual,  they  are  cowardly 
false  to  their  trust. 

How  be  it  they  are  good  men, 
,  Moche  herted  lyke  an  hen.  .  .  * 

And  they  have  forgotten  the  lessons  St.  Thomas  k  Becket  gave 
them!  They  sell  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Ghost!  The  result  is  the 
total  disorganization  of  the  Church. 

And  howe  whan  ye  gyue  orders 
In  your  prouinciall  borders. 
As  at  Sitientes, 
Some  are  insufficientea. 
Some  parum  apaientes. 
Some  nihil  intelligentes. 
Some  valde  negligentes. 
Some  nullum  sensum  haheniea. 
But  bestiall  and  vntaught; 
But  whan  thei  haue  ones  caught 
Dominua  vobiscum  by  the  hede. 
Than  renne  they  in  euery  stede, 
God  wot,  with  dronken  noUes; 
Yet  take  they  cure  of  soules. 
And  woteth  neuer  what  thei  rede. 
Paternoster,  Ave,  nor  Crede; 
Construe  not  worth  a  whystle 
Nether  Gospel  nor  Pystle; 
Theyr  mattyns  madly  sayde, 
Nothynge  deuoutly  prayd; 
Theyr  lemynge  is  so  small, 
Theyr  prymes  and  houres  fall 
And  lepe  out  of  theyr  lypjjes 
Lyke  sawdust  or  drye  chyppes. 
I  speke  not  nowe  of  all. 
But  the  moost  parte  in  generall.  * 

1  Lines  121-131.  <  Lines  168-169.  '  Lmes  2122-247. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  188 

And  the  ignorance  of  the  clergy  is  both  wide-spread  and  appalling, 
due  primarily  to  the  fact  that  the  candidates  are  not  selected 
with  care. 

In  you  the  faute  ia  supposed. 

For  that  they  are  not  appyosed 

By  just  examinacyon 

In  connyng  and  conuersacyon; 

They  haue  none  instructyon 

To  make  a  true  constructyon: 

A  preest  without  a  letter. 

Without  his  vertue  be  gretter, 

Doubtlesse  were  moche  better 

Vpon  hym  for  to  take 

A  mattocke  or  a  rake. 

Alas,  for  very  shame! 

Some  can  not  declyne  their  name; 

Some  can  not  scarsly  rede. 

And  yet  he  wyll  not  drede 

For  to  kepe  a  cure. 

And  in  nothyng  is  sure; 

This  Dominus  vcbiscumy 

As  wyse  as  Tom  a  thrum, 

A  chaplayne  of  trust 

Layth  all  in  the  dust. ' 

On  account  of  this  demoralization  the  laity  feel  that  the  clergy 
cannot  be  trusted.  Here  Skelton  does  not  hesitate  to  put  into 
words  accusations  that  we  are  told  today  originated  with  the 
Reformers : 

Of  prebendaries  and  deanes, 

Howe  some  of  them  gleanes 

And  gathereth  vp  the  store 

For  to  catche  more  and  more; 

Of  persons  and  vycaryes 

They  make  many  outcryes; 

They  cannot  kepe  theyr  wyues 

From  them  for  theyr  lyues; 

And  thus  the  loselles  stryuea. 

And  lewedly  sayes  by  Christ 

Agaynst  the  sely  preest.  * 

The  inevitable  result  is  the  Reformation. 

And  some  haue  a  smacke 
Of  Luthers  sacke, 
I  Lines  266-286.  *  Lioea  568-78. 


184  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

And  a  brennyng  sparke 

Of  Luthen  warke. 

And  are  somewhat  suspecte 

In  Luthers  secte; 

And  some  of  them  barke. 

Clatter  and  carpe 

Of  that  heresy  arte 

Called  Wicleuista, 

And  deuelysshe  dogmatista; 

And  some  be  Hussyans, 

And  some  be  Arryans, 

And  some  be  PoUegians, 

And  make  moche  varyans 

Bytwene  the  clergye 

And  the  temporaltye  ...  * 

In  this  passage  Skelton  is  a  loyal  son  of  the  Church.  That  it  is 
possible  for  men  to  be  seduced  by  the  truth  of  the  hideous  heresies 
of  Luther  and  WycliflF  never  enters  his  mind.  The  sole  reason  that 
he  can  conceive  for  such  backsliding  is  that  the  evil  lives  of  the 
clergy  have  rendered  their  Church  contemptible. 

And  the  responsibility  for  this  wretched  condition  rests  upon 
the  bishops.  Through  pride,  vain-glory  and  hypocrisy  they  have 
ceased  to  be  "lanterns  of  Ught."  They  are  of  the  worid,  woridly, 
forgetting  the  lessons  of  their  Master. 

Chryst  by  cnielte 
Was  nayled  vpon  a  tre; 
He  payed  a  bytter  pencyon 
For  mannes  redemcyon. 
He  dranke  eysell  and  gall 
To  redeme  vs  withall; 
But  swete  ypocras  ye  drynke. 
With,  Let  the  cat  wynke!  * 

1  Lines  542-558. 

'  Colin  Clout,  452-59.  That  Skelton  is  not  alone  in  his  opinion,  is  shown  by  Hawes, 
Concercyon  of  Swerers: 

My  wordes  my  prelates  vnto  you  do  preche  .  .  . 
The  worlde  hathe  cast  you  in  suche  blyndnes 
Lyke  vnto  stones  your  hertes  hathe  hardnes.  .  . 
Wo  worthe  your  hertes  so  planted  in  pryde 
Wo  worthe  your  wrath  and  mortall  enuye 
Wo  worthe  slouth  that  dothe  with  you  abyde 
Wo  worthe  also  inmesurable  glotony 
Wo  worthe  your  tedyus  synne  of  lechery,  etc.  etc 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  185 

Let  them  come  forth  at  large,  preach  so  simply  that  they  may  be 
understood,  and  all  will  be  well.  Thus  Skelton  is  at  one  with 
Erasmus.  He  feels  no  need  for  reformation  outside  of  the  Church; 
it  is  reformation  within  the  Church  that  is  needed  imperatively 
and  rapidly.  Therefore  is  he  writing,  not  against  the  Church,  but 
in  behalf  of  the  Church,  and  as  a  lover  of  the  Church  he  cries  out 
against  those  that  defile  Her  sacraments.  This  attitude  explains 
the  bitterness  of  the  poems, — the  point  of  view  of  one  that  feels 
his  cause  betrayed,  of  the  soldier  abandoned  by  his  general.  The 
attack  is  also  an  appeal.  And  it  is  exactly  this  attitude  that 
renders  his  criticisms  significant.  Personally  he  had  nothing  to 
gain  and  everything  to  lose.  The  heads  of  the  Church,  those  from 
whom  preferment  was  to  be  exi>ected,  were  those  that  would  be 
most  antagonized.  He  is  driven  to  speak  by  the  force  of  his 
conscience.  Nor  is  he  an  insignificant,  peevish,  unknown  person, — 
he  is  one  of  the  powers  of  the  Church  himself,  and  the  greatest 
writer  in  England.  Therefore  naturally  in  these  poems  there  is 
very  real  force. 

The  inevitable  result  of  Skelton's  analysis  is  that  he  tends  more 
and  more  through  these  years  to  focus  his  invective  upon  Wolsey. 
To  Skelton,  Wolsey  became  more  and  more  of  the  type  that,  by 
sacrificing  the  interests  of  the  Church  to  those  of  the  State,  was 
betraying  the  Church.  To  him  Wolsey  did  not  have  the  prestige 
given  by  birth  or  education.  When  Skelton  was  at  court  Wolsey 
was  a  domestic  chaplain,  and,  as  a  political  factor,  completely 
unknown.  And  as  Wolsey,  although  Oxford  B.  A.  and  M.  A., 
had  never  proceeded  to  the  higher  degrees,  to  the  academic  poet 
he  seemed  almost  uneducated.^ 

But  how  euer  he  was  borne. 
Men  wolde  haue  the  lesse  scome. 
If  he  collide  consyder 
His  byrth  and  rowme  togeder. 
And  call  to  his  mynde 
How  noble  and  how  kynde 
To  him  he  hathe  founde 
Our  souereyne  lorde,  chyfe  grounde 
Of  all  this  prelacy. 
And  set  hym  nobly 

^  Why  Comet,  49»-5S2. 


186  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

In  great  auctoryte. 

Out  from  a  low  degree 

Whiche  he  can  nat  se: 

For  he  was  parde 

No  doctor  of  deuinyte. 

Nor  doctor  of  the  law. 

Nor  of  none  other  saw; 

But  a  poore  maister  of  arte, 

God  wot,  had  lytell  parte 

Of  the  quatriuials. 

Nor  yet  of  the  triuials. 

Nor  of  philosophy. 

Nor  of  philology. 

Nor  of  good  pollycy. 

Nor  of  astronomy. 

Nor  acquaynted  worth  a  fly 

With  honorable  Haly, 

Nor  with  royall  Ptholomy, 

Nor  with  Albumasar, 

To  treate  of  any  star 

Fyxt  or  els  mobyll; 

His  Latyne  tonge  dothe  hobbyll. 

He  doth  but  cloute  and  cobbill 

In  Tullis  faculte. 

Called  humanyte; 

Yet  proudly  he  dare  pretende 

How  no  man  can  him  amende: 

But  haue  ye  nat  harde  this. 

How  an  one  eyed  man  is 

Well  syghted  when 

He  is  amonge  blynde  men? 

To  US,  to  whom  the  Shakespearean  play  has  invested  the  fall  of 
Wolsey  with  the  sublimity  of  a  great  catastrophe,  it  is  difficult 
to  get  the  point  of  view  of  Skelton,  to  whom  Wolsey  was  merely 
an  ill-educated  upstart  that  was  criminally  ruining  his  own  order, 
that  by  pleasing  a  young  king  he  might  maintain  himself  in 
power.  To  Skelton  there  is  no  dignity,  merely  devilish  ingenuity, 
in  the  career  of  Wolsey. 

It  is  with  this  point  of  view  that,  from  his  coign  of  vantage  in 
Norfolk,  Skelton  watched  the  rise  of  Wolsey.  The  beginning  of 
the  new  reign  was  a  period  of  storm  and  stress  for  the  Church. 
To  appreciate  the  questions  at  issue,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
the  Church  was  an  entity,  distinct  from  the  State.    Its  independ- 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  187 

ence  had  been  established  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  life  of  St.  Thomas 
at  Canterbury.  The  situation  has  been  well  summarized  by 
Professor  Van  Dyke:  ^ 

American  ecclesiastical  establishments  are  entirely  voluntary,  they  have  al- 
most no  endowments,  and  this  puts  them  so  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  laity  when- 
ever they  choose  to  use  their  power,  that  it  is  difficult  for  an  American  to  appreciate 
the  situation  in  England  at  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  clergy 
were  a  corporate  body,  freed  from  the  ordinary  jurisdiction  of  the  common  law, 
deciding  matters  connected  with  marriage  and  wills  by  courts  constituted  by  them- 
selves, having  sanctuaries  where  the  criminal  who  entered  was  free  from  arrest, 
enjoying  an  income  two  and  a  half  times  that  of  the  Crown,  owning  real  estate 
estimated  at  one-third  the  total  of  the  kingdom,  casting  in  the  persons  of  the  twenty- 
six  bishops  and  the  twenty-seven  mitred  abbots  almost  two-thirds  of  the  votes  in 
Henry  VIII's  first  House  of  Lords,  and  able  as  great  landed  proprietors  to  exert 
influence  on  elections  to  the  House  of  Commons.  And  this  formidable  body  con- 
fessed supreme  allegiance  to  a  ruler  living  in  Rome  whose  predecessors  had  repeat- 
edly claimed  the  divine  and  unquestionable  right  to  dictate  to  kings  and  nations 
about  the  conduct  of  their  affairs. 

But  while  theoretically  the  line  of  cleavage  is  thus  distinct,  prac- 
tically action  was  usually  unified,  because  the  high  officials  of  the 
Church  were  also  apt  to  be  high  officials  in  the  State.  Yet  ob- 
viously so  complicated  a  situation  would  give  rise  to  numerous 
complaints,  and  naturally  the  sympathy  of  the  laity  would  be 
on  the  side  of  the  State.  This  was  shown  by  the  law  passed 
February  4th,  1513,  that,  for  one  year,  the  benefit  of  the  clergy 
should  be  denied  to  all  robbers  and  murderers,  except  such  as 
were  within  the  holy  orders  of  a  bishop,  priest,  or  deacon.  As 
such  a  law  was  a  direct  impingement  by  the  State  on  the  preroga- 
tives of  the  Church,  in  1515  it  was  attacked  by  the  Abbot  of 
Winchcomb.  In  turn  the  law  was  defended  by  Standish,  Provin- 
cial of  the  Franciscans,  who  by  this  action  naturally  angered  the 
clergy.  He  was  therefore  summoned  to  appear  before  the  Con- 
vocation, a  summons  that  he  evaded  by  an  appeal  to  the  King.^ 

Ultimately  the  judges  determined  that  all  the  Convocation  who  had  taken  part 
in  the  proceedings  against  Dr.  Standish  were  subject  to  profmunire;  that  the  King 
could  hold  a  parliament  by  himself  and  the  temporal  lords  and  commons,  without 
the  spiritual  lords,  who  had  no  place  there,  except  by  reason  of  their  temporal 

»  Renatcence  PoHraiU,  by  Paul  Van  Dyke,  1905,  18S-4. 
*  LetUT$  and  PaperM.  Vol.  2,  Part  1,  ^  1S13. 


188  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

possessions.  Then  the  judges  and  councillors,  spiritual  and  temporal,  assembled 
before  the  King  at  Baynard's  castle,  when  the  Archbishop  of  York,  Cardinal,  knelt 
before  the  King  and  said,  in  behalf  of  the  clergy,  that  none  of  them  had  intended  to 
do  anything  in  derogation  of  the  royal  prerogative,  and  that  for  his  part  he  owed 
his  advancement  solely  to  the  King,  and  would  never  assent  to  anything  in  deroga- 
tion of  his  authority;  nevertheless  that  this  matter  of  the  convention  of  clerks  before 
the  temporal  judge  seemed  to  all  the  clergy  to  be  against  the  liberties  of  the  Church, 
which  they  were  bound  by  oath  to  preserve.  He  therefore  prayed  the  King  that 
the  matter  might  be  determined  by  the  Pope  and  his  council  at  Rome.  The  King 
answered,  "  We  think  Dr.  Standish  has  sufficiently  replied  to  you  in  all  points."  .  .  . 
The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  said,  that  in  former  days  many  holy  fathers  had 
resisted  the  law  of  the  land  on  this  point,  and  some  had  suffered  martyrdom  in  the 
quarrel.  .  .  .  On  this  the  King  said,  "  We  are,  by  the  sufferance  of  God,  King  of 
England,  and  the  Kings  of  England  in  times  past  never  had  any  superior  but  God; 
know,  therefore,  that  we  will  maintain  the  rights  of  the  crown  in  this  matter  like 
our  progenitors;  .  .  .  You  interpret  your  decrees  at  your  pleasure;  but  as  for  me, 
I  will  never  consent  to  your  desire,  any  more  than  my  progenitors  have  done." 

It  is  difficult  to  overstate  the  importance  of  this  extraordinary 
trial;  in  theory  the  principle  of  the  reformation  is  here  enunciated 
as  it  was  afterwards  in  fact.    No  wonder  Skelton  feels  that  ^ 

O  causeles  cowardes,  O  hartles  hardynesi 

O  manles  manhod,  enfayntyd  all  with  fere! 
O  connyng  clergye,  where  ys  your  redynes 

To  practise  or  postyll  thys  prosses  here  and  there? 

For  drede  ye  darre  not  medyll  with  suche  gere. 
Or  elles  ye  pynche  curtesy,  trulye  as  I  trowe, 
Whyche  of  yow  fyrste  dare  boldlye  plucke  the  crowe. 

When,  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  churchman,  the  gravity  of 
the  issue  is  considered,  the  action  taken  by  Wolsey  cannot  be 
termed  courageous,  with  his  assertion  "that  for  his  part  he  owed 
his  advancement  solely  to  the  King,  and  would  never  assent  to 
anything  in  derogation  of  his  authority. "  To  Skelton,  it  seemed 
that  the  champion  of  the  Church  had  betrayed  the  Church  to  the 
State.  For,  in  Wolsey  in  1514  were  united  almost  the  highest 
powers  of  each;  on  September  10th,  he  had  been  created  Cardinal, 
and  on  December  24th,  Lord  Chancellor.  The  Parrot  bitterly 
laments  that 

He  caryeth  a  kyng  in  hys  sieve. 
» Dyce,  ii,  19. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  189 

Nay  more,  he  is  king !  ^ 

Jupiter  ut  nitido  deus  eat  veneratus  Olympo; 

Hie  coliturque  deus. 
Sunt  data  thura  Jovi,  rutilo  solio  residenti; 

Cum  Jove  thura  capit. 
Jupiter  astrorum  rector  dominusque  polorum; 

Anglica  sceptra  regit. 

With  all  this  power  he  might  have  saved  the  Church !    He  did  not 
rise  to  his  opportunity  because  he  himself  was  beneath  contempt.^ 

So  myche  raggyd  ryghte  of  a  rammes  home; 

So  rygorous  revelyng  in  a  prelate  specially; 
So  bold  and  so  braggyng,  and  was  so  baselye  borne; 

So  lordlye  of  hys  lokes  and  so  dysdayneslye; 

So  fatte  a  magott,  bred  of  a  flesshe  flye; 
Was  nevyr  suche  a  ffylty  gorgon,  nor  suche  an  epycure, 
Sjms  Dewcalyons  flodde,  I  make  the  faste  and  sure. 

So  myche  preuye  wachyng  in  cold  wynters  nyghtes; 

So  myche  serchyng  of  loselles,  and  ys  hymselfe  so  lewde; 
So  myche  coniuracions  for  elvyshe  myday  sprettes; 

So  many  bullys  of  pardon  puplysshed  and  shewyd; 

So  myche  crossyng  and  blyssyng,  and  hym  all  beshrewde; 
Suche  pollaxis  and  pyllers,  suche  mvlys  trapte  with  gold; — 
Sens  Dewcalyons  flodde  in  no  cronycle  ys  told. 

Dixit,  quod  Parrot. 

Unhappily,  on  his  secular  side,  no  more  than  on  his  ecclesiasti- 
cal, did  Wolsey  act  to  the  satisfaction  of  Skelton.  It  may  be  possi- 
ble, perhaps,  to  infer  jealousy,  as  an  unconscious  motive,  on  the 
part  of  the  former  tutor  that  saw  another  so  firmly  fixed  in  the 
affections  of  the  quondam  pupil.  But  also  his  very  admiration 
for  the  Eang  made  him  protest  against  the  assumption  of  authority 
on  the  part  of  the  minister.  The  story  is  told  in  Guistinian's  De- 
spatches,' that  Francis  I,  on  being  told  that  Henry  devoted  him- 
self to  pleasure  and  solace,  and  left  the  cares  of  state  to  the  Cardi- 
nal, rejoined,  "By  my  faith,  the  Cardinal  must  bear  him  little 
good  will;  for  it  is  not  the  office  of  a  good  servant  to  filch  his  mas- 

» Dyce,  ii,  40. 
» Dyce,  ii,  44. 
» Quoted  by  Brewer,  Lettera  and  Papers,  Vol.  S,  Part  I,  xxzii. 


190  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

ter's  honor."  It  is  the  old  complaint  of  the  ego  et  meus  rex.  To 
us,  with  our  appreciation  of  Henry's  character  and  knowledge  of 
Wolsey's  downfall,  this  may  seem  trivial;  to  them,  the  Cardinal's 
power  as  attested  by  his  magnificence  overshadowed  that  of  the 
King  himself.    So  Skelton  asks  in  bitterness  * 

Why  come  ye  nat  to  court? — 

To  whyche  court? 

To  the  kynges  court. 

Or  to  Hampton  Court? — 

Nay,  to  the  kynges  court: 

The  kynges  courte 

Shulde  haue  the  excellence 

But  Hampton  Court 

Hath  the  preemynence. 

And  Yorkes  Place, 

With  my  lordes  grace. 

To  whose  magnifycence 

Is  all  the  conflewence, 

Sutys  and  supplycacyons, 

Embassades  of  all  nacyons. 

Strawe  for  lawe  cannon. 

Or  for  the  lawe  common. 

Or  for  lawe  cyuyll! 

It  shall  be  as  he  wyll :  .  .  .  . 

He  dyggeth  so  in  the  trenche 

Of  the  court  royall. 

That  he  ruleth  them  all. 

So  he  dothe  vndermjTide, 

And  suche  sleyghtes  dothe  fynde. 

That  the  kynges  mynde 

By  hym  is  subuerted. 

And  so  streatly  coarted 

In  credensynge  his  tales. 

That  all  is  but  nutshales 

That  any  other  sayth; 

He  hath  in  him  suche  fayth. 

Such  faith,  in  itself  a  lovely  thing,  would  not  be  dangerous  if, 
as  Skelton  remarks,  the  object  of  the  trust  were  worthy.  This, 
however,  according  to  Skelton,  he  was  not.  As  Chancellor  of 
State,  his  foreign  policy  was  a  failure.  His  expedition  to  Calais, 
July-November,  1521,  in  which  he  attempted  to  mediate  between 

1  Why  Come  Ye  Nat  to  Court,  Dyee,  ii,  39-40. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  191 

Francis  and  the  Emperor  had  made  England  only  ridiculous.  The 
truce  between  England  and  Scotland,  September  11,  1522,  sur- 
rendered the  advantages  gained,  with  a  net  loss;  * 

Our  mony  madly  lent. 
And  mor  madly  spent:  .  .  . 
Our  armye  waxeth  dull. 
With,  toume  all  home  agayne. 
With  never  a  Scot  slayne. 

The  wardens  of  the  East  and  West  Marches,  and  the  Earl  of  North" 
umberland,  are  standing  by  idle.  The  explanation  for  this  con- 
dition is  not  the  inefficiency  of  either  the  troops  or  the  command- 
ers, because  the  good  Earl  of  Surrey  terrified  the  French.  The 
fault  is  not  with  them,  it  is  with  the  man  higher  up;  the  Cardinal 
was  bribed;  ^ 

But  yet  they  ouer  shote  V9 

Wyth  crownes  and  wyth  scutus; 

With  scutis  and  crownes  of  gold 

I  drede  we  are  bought  and  solde; 

It  is  a  wonders  warke: 

They  shote  all  at  one  marke. 

At  the  Cardynals  hat. 

They  shote  all  at  that; 

Oute  of  theyr  stronge  townes 

They  shote  at  him  with  crownes; 

With  crownes  of  golde  enblased 

They  make  him  so  amased. 

And  his  eyen  so  dased. 

That  he  ne  se  can 

To  know  God  nor  man. 

And  in  accusing  John  Meautis,  the  King's  French  Secretary,  of 
treachery,  he  insinuates  that  Wolsey  himself  is  in  the  pay  of 
France.^ 

To  explain  why  the  chief  minister  of  England  should  thus  sell 
himself  Skelton  argues  his  notorious  need  for  money.  Even  houses 
of  ill  fame  are  protected  openly  by  the  Cardinal.  This  is  not  sur- 
prising, since  he  is  a  man  notoriously  immoral.    He  * 

'Lmesl4Q-l;  147-9. 
«  Lines  166-180. 

'On  March  15th.  1523,  Brian  Tuke  is  appointed  secretary  "vice  John  Meau- 
ties"  but  I  do  not  know  whether  for  the  reason  Skelton  alleges. 
« Lines  222-«eS. 


192  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Spareth  neither  mayde  ne  wyfe: 
This  is  a  posteb  lyfe! 

But  what  could  you  expect  from  his  birth?  * 

How  be  it  the  primordyall 

Of  his  wretched  originall. 

And  his  base  progeny, 

And  his  gresy  genealogy. 

He  came  of  the  sank  royall,  (sang  royal) 

That  was  cast  out  of  a  bochers  stall. 

Yet  it  is  this  wretched  creature,  without  birth,  without  education, 
that  dares  affront  the  old  nobiUty  of  England !  ^ 

Our  barons  be  so  bolde. 
Into  a  mouse  hole  they  wolde 
Rynne  away  and  crepe, 
Lyke  a  mayny  of  shepe; 
Dare  nat  loke  out  at  dur 
For  drede  of  the  mastyue  cur. 
For  drede  of  the  bochers  dogge 
Wold  wyrry  them  lyke  an  hogge. 

For  and  this  curre  do  gnar. 
They  must  stande  all  a  far. 
To  holde  vp  their  hande  at  the  bar. 
For  all  their  noble  blode 
He  pluckes  them  by  the  hode, 
And  shakes  them  by  the  eare. 
And  brynge  [sj  them  in  suche  feare; 
He  bayteth  them  lyke  a  bere, 
Lyke  an  oxe,  or  a  bull: 
Theyr  wyttes,  he  saith,  are  dull; 
He  sayth  they  haue  no  brayne 
Theyr  astate  to  mayntayne; 
And  maketh  them  to  bow  theyr  kne 
Before  his  maieste. 

Consequently  the  only  explanation  he  can  find  for  the  continued 
favor  of  the  King  toward  the  Cardinal  is  witchcraft,  and  he  gravely 
cites  a  precedent  in  the  time  of  Charlemagne!  A  more  tempt- 
ing precedent,  however,  occurs  to  him  in  the  career  of  Cardinal 
Balue,  who,  hke  Wolsey,  betrayed  his  king.^ 

1  48^-491.  »  Lines  289-SlO.  »  Lines  736-740. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  193 

Wherefore  he  sufiFred  payn. 

Was  hedyd,  drawen,  and  quarterd. 

And  dyed  stynldngly  marterd. 

Lo,  yet  for  all  that 

He  ware  a  cardynals  hat. 

In  hym  waa  small  fayth  .  .  . 

Such  in  substance  is  Skelton's  indictment  against  the  great 
Cardinal,  poured  forth  in  lines  that  tumble  over  one  another  with- 
out order.  He  returns  to  the  charge,  repeats  accusations,  his 
allusions  refer  to  events  in  an  unchronological  order,  and  there  is 
no  regular  procedure.  The  probability  is  that  the  various  sections 
of  the  poem  were  comp>osed  at  quite  dififerent  times.  Thus  at 
line  393,  only  a  little  beyond  one  quarter  of  the  completed  work, 
he  remarks: 

Thus  wyll  I  conclude  my  style. 
And  fall  to  rest  a  whyle. 
And  so  to  rest  a  whyle,  &c. 

The  natural  result  is  that  the  poem  is  powerful  only  in  detail.  As 
a  whole  it  has  the  incoherence  of  anger.  It  is  not  worth  while, 
therefore,  to  discuss  the  historical  accuracy  of  the  accusations; 
in  fact,  with  the  able  championing  of  Brewer,  the  modern  reader 
in  his  admiration  for  the  great  qualities  of  Wolsey  is  apt  to  forget 
that  there  may  be  another  side.  What  concerns  us  here  is  purely 
literary.  As  literature,  its  main  characteristic  is  its  audacity. 
In  an  age  of  privilege,  the  boldness  with  which  the  poet  dares  to 
express  his  scandals  and  the  vigor  of  the  expression  are  astounding. 
It  is  no  wonder  that  half  apologetically  he  shields  himself  behind 
the  example  of  Juvenal.  Its  great  merit  is  that  it  is  a  scathingly 
frank  expression  of  personal  opinion.  And  that,  too,  is  its  great 
weakness, — that  it  is  the  expression  of  merely  personal  opinion. 
This  may  explain  why  Wolsey  could  afford  to  overlook,  provided 
he  ever  saw  it,  this  attack  upon  his  foreign  policy  and  the  personal 
invective  accompanying  it.  The  first  was  misunderstood  and  the 
second  greatly  exaggerated.  And  neither  much  interested  the 
country  at  large.  The  average  Englishman  had  not  the  materials 
at  hand  to  enable  him  to  discuss  matters  of  state  polity,  and  the 
vices  of  rulers  tend  toward  enhancing  their  popularity  with  the 
common  man  by  making  them  more  human.    In  any  case  Wolsey's 


104  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

birth,  manner,  education,  and  morality  were  equally  well  known 
to  the  King,  who  alone  was  the  judge.  Consequently,  although 
it  is  not  probable  that  he  read  Why  Come  Ye  not  to  Court  with 
pleasure,  or  that  he  liked  its  author,  it  is  conceivable  that  he  may 
have  regarded  Skelton  as  the  pestiferous  gadfly  awakened  by  his 
own  success. 

But  such  reasoning  scarcely  holds  with  Skelton's  most  famous 
poem,  Colin  Clout, — more  widely  known  than  the  rest,  perhaps 
because  from  it  Spenser  borrowed  his  nom  de  plume.  Of  no  poem, 
however,  is  the  question  of  dating  more  difficult.  In  the  enumera- 
tion in  the  Garland,  while  naturally  its  companion  piece.  Why  Come 
Ye  not  to  Court,  is  omitted,  Colin  Clout  is  listed  as  a  "trifle"  of 
"honest  mirth"  in  the  same  category  with  Elinor  Humming,  and 
the  Latin  side-note  reads:  "They  smile  more  pleasantly  at  seri- 
ous matters  when  described  as  jests."  The  inevitable  inference 
is  that  the  satire  is  general  and  not  particular.  On  the  other 
hand  exactly  the  contrary,  that  the  satire  was  directed  at  Wolsey 
and  not  in  general,  was  the  opinion  of  the  poet's  contemporaries. 
For  example,  Francis  Thynne,  writing  long  after  of  his  father's 
difficulties,  remarks:  ^ 

....  wherevppon  the  kinge  bydd  hym  goo  his  waye,  and  feare  not.  All  whiche 
not  withstandinge,  my  father  was  called  in  questiooe  by  the  Bysshoppes,  and 
heaved  at  by  Cardinall  Wolseye,  his  olde  enymye  for  manye  causes,  but  mostly  for 
that  my  father  had  furthered  Skelton  to  publishe  his  '  CoUen  Cloute '  againste  the 
Cardinall,  the  moste  parte  of  whiche  Booke  was  compiled  in  my  fathers  howse 
at  Erithe  in  Kente. 

Aside  from  the  immaterial  error  of  the  place  of  composition,^  this 
testimony  is  of  the  highest  value.  The  father  of  the  writer  had 
been  injured,  because  it  was  believed  that  he  had  aided  in  the  com- 
position of  a  particular  poem.  It  is  scarcely  conceivable  that  the 
son  should  have  been  confused  about  so  important  an  event  in  his 
family  history.  That  Thynne  was  not  mistaken  is  shown  by  the 
fact  that  among  the  Lansdowne  MSS.^  lines  462-480  of  Colin  Clout 

^  Francis  Thynne  s  Animadversions  upon  Speght's  first  (1598  A.  D.)  Edition  of 
Chaucer's  Workes,  Chaucer  Society,  1876,  p.  10, 

'  The  house  at  Erith  was  not  purchased  by  the  elder  Thynne  until  two  years  after 
Skelton's  death.    The  entire  passage  is  quoted  in  Chapter  II,  p.  117. 

» Dyce,  i,  329. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  195 

appear  as  an  independent  poem,  entitled  "The  profecy  of  Skelton, 
1529,"  and  the  passage  prophesying 

A  f atall  fall  of  one 

That  sbuld  syt  on  a  trone. 

And  rule  all  thynges  alone.  .  . 

can  refer  only  to  Wolsey.  Another  witness  that  in  this  poem  Skel- 
ton is  attacking  Wolsey  appears  in  William  Bullein.^  In  1564, 
if  not  earlier,^  he  wrote  a  Dialogue  against  the  Feuer  Pestilence ^ 
in  which  he  thus  mentions  Skelton: 

Skelton  satte  in  the  comer  of  a  Filler  with  a  Frostie  bitten  face,  frownyng,  and  is 
scante  yet  cleane  cooled  of  the  hotte  bumyng  Cholour  kindeled  againste  the  can- 
kered Cardinall  Wolsey;  wrytyng  many  sharpe  Distichous  with  bloudie  penne 
againste  hym,  and  sente  them  by  the  infernal  riuers  Styx,  Flegiion,  and  Acheron  by 
the  Feriman  of  helle,  called  Charon,  to  the  saied  Cardinall. 

How  the  Cardinall  came  of  nought. 
And  his  Prelacie  solde  and  bought; 
And  where  suche  Prelates  bee 
Sprong  of  lowe  degree. 
And  spirituall  dignitee. 
Farewell  benignitee. 
Farewell  simplicitee. 
Farewell  good  charitee! 

Thus  paruum  literatus 
Came  from  Rome  gatus, 
Doctour  dowpatus, 
Scante  a  Bachelaratus: 

And  thus  Skelton  did  ende 
With  Wolsey  his  friende. 

The  obvious  inference  from  such  scattered  references  is  that  not 
only  was  Colin  Clout  read  with  reference  to  the  Cardinal,  but  also 
that  it  circulated  in  fragments. 

This  inference,  made  from  external  evidence,  is  corroborated 
by  the  internal  evidence  of  the  poem  itself.  Allusions  are  made  to 
historic  events  that  happened  after  the  composition  of  the  Gar- 
land. One  illustration,  that  shows  also  the  detailed  nature  of  the 
attack,  will  suffice. 

>  Early  English  Text  Society.  Extra  Series,  LII,  16. 
*  The  earliest  edition  reads  "newly  corrected." 


196  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Buyldyng  royally 

Theyr  mancyona  curyously. 

With  turrettes  and  with  toures. 

With  halles  and  with  boures, 

Stretchynge  to  the  starres. 

With  glasse  wyndowes  and  barres; 

Hangynge  aboute  the  walles 

Clothes  of  golde  and  palles. 

Arras  of  ryche  aray, 

Fresshe  as  Sours  in  May; 

Wyth  dame  Dyana  naked; 

Howe  lusty  Venus  quaked. 

And  howe  Cupyde  shaked 

His  dart,  and  bent  his  bowe 

For  to  shote  a  crowe 

At  her  tyrly  tyrlowe; 

And  howe  Parys  of  Troy 

Daunced  a  lege  de  moy. 

Made  lusty  sporte  and  ioy 

With  dame  Helyn  the  quene; 

With  suche  storyes  bydene 

Their  chambres  well  besene; 

With  triumphes  of  Cesar, 

And  of  Pompeyus  war. 

Of  renowne  and  of  fame 

By  them  to  get  a  name: 

Nowe  all  the  worlde  stares. 

How  they  ryde  in  goodly  chares, 

Conueyed  by  olyphantes. 

With  lauryat  garlantes. 

And  by  vnycomes 

With  their  semely  homes; 

Vpon  these  beestes  rydynge. 

Naked  boyes  strydynge. 

With  wanton  wenches  winkyng. 

Nowe  truly,  to  my  thynkynge. 

That  is  a  speculacyon 

And  a  mete  meditacyon 

For  prelates  of  estate,  .  .  .^ 

These  lines  apparently  describe,  as  was  j)ointe<l  out  by  Ernest 
Law,^  a  definite  set  of  tapestries  at  Hampton  Court.    "Of  these 

^  Colyn  Cloute.    Lines  936-974. 

*  A  History  of  Hampton  Court  Palace,  2nd  ed.  1890,  i,  pp.  63-65.    As  sketches 
of  the  designs  are  here  given,  the  reader  may  see  for  himself  the  accuracy  of  Skel- 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  197 

six  triumphs  (Wolsey  having  duplicates  of  those  of  Time  and  Eter- 
nity), we  at  once  identify  three,  namely,  those  of  Death,  Renown, 
and  Time,  as  still  remaining  at  Hampton  Court  in  Henry  VIII's 
Great  Watching  or  Guard  Chamber;  while  the  other  three — of 
Love,  Chastity,  and  Eternity,  or  Divinity, — complete  the  set  of 
six  designs,  which  were  illustrative,  in  an  allegorical  form,  of  Pe- 
trarch's Triumphs.  ...  In  each  piece  a  female,  emblematic  of  the 
influence  whose  triumph  is  celebrated,  is  shown  enthroned  on  a 
gorgeously  magnificent  car  drawn  by  elephants,  or  unicorns,  or 
bulls,  richly  caparisoned  and  decorated;  while  around  them  throng 
a  host  of  attendants  and  historical  personages,  typical  of  the  tri- 
umph portrayed.  Thus,  in  the  Triumph  of  Fame  or  Renown,  we 
have  figures  representing  Julius  Caesar  and  Pompey;  and  in  the 
first  aspect  of  the  Triumph  of  Chastity  we  see  Venus,  driven  by 
naked  cupids,  and  surrounded  by  heroines  of  amorous  renown, 
attacked  by  Chastity.  The  reader  will  now  recognize  how  pointed 
is  the  reference  to  these  tapestries  in  the  following  lines  of  Skelton's 
satire.  .  .  ."  Unless  there  chanced  to  be  in  England  and  familiar 
to  Skelton  another  set  of  tapestries  allegorically  representing  Pe- 
trarch's triumphs — an  hypothesis  that  does  not  seem  probable — 
Skelton's  lines  refer  to  these.  They  appear  in  Wolsey's  in- 
ventory as  "hangings  bought  of  the  'xecutors  of  my  lord  of  Dur- 
ham anno  xiiii"  Reg.  H.  viii."  But  as  Ruthall,  Bishop  of  Durham, 
died  February  4,  1523,  the  passage  is  either  an  attack  upon  Ruth- 
all,  or  the  list  in  the  Garland  was  written  at  the  earliest  only  eight 
months  before  it  was  published  by  Hawkes.  Neither  alternative 
seems  very  probable.  Although  Ruthall  caused  to  be  built  the 
great  chamber  at  Bishop  Aukland,  the  expression  "royally"  seems 
overdone  to  apply  to  that;  nor  does  eight  months'  intermission 
between  the  composition  of  a  poem  and  the  publication  of  it  seem 
in  accordance  with  the  leisurely  methods  of  printing  used  in  the 
16th  century.  The  simplest  explanation  of  the  difficulty,  therefore, 
is  the  assumption  that  there  were  two  versions  of  the  p>oem.  The 
first  was  a  general  attack  upon  ecclesiastical  conditions,  and  as 
such  was  alluded  to  in  the  Garland.  Skelton  then  added  passages 
specifically  attacking  Wolsey,  although  not  by  name.  Both  ex- 
ternal and  internal  evidence  show  that  in  a  poem  criticising 

ton's  description.  Mr.  Law,  however,  gives  no  indication  of  the  diflBculty  in  the 
dating  caused  by  his  discovery. 


198  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

general  conditions  of  the  clergy,  he  inserted  individual  poems  at- 
tacking Wolsey  in  particular,  erasing  the  lines  of  cleavage.^ 

But  the  result  of  this  condition,  namely  the  joining  of  parts 
definitely  attacking  Wolsey  upon  parts  that  originally  had  little 
reference  to  him,  is  that  the  sixteenth  century,  not  unnaturally, 
read  Wolsey  into  the  whole  poem,  that  a  satire  upon  a  general 
condition  became  a  satire  upon  a  single  individiial.  Wolsey  is  thus 
pilloried  as  the  traitor  to  the  Church.  Whether  or  not  this  effect 
was  intended  consciously  is  impossible  to  say,  although  it  may  be 
argued  that  after  the  personalities  in  Why  Come  Ye  not  to  Court 
there  were  no  bounds  to  Skelton's  audacity.  Colin  Clout  becomes 
a  passionate  appeal  to  both  the  clergy  and  the  laity  to  rebel.  And 
the  allusions  are  to  events  that,  although  now  forgotten,  at  that  time 
stirred  all  England.  In  1523  the  clergy  of  the  Convocation,  sum- 
moned by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  on  the  first  day  of  its 
meeting  in  St.  Paul's  were  cited  to  appear  before  Wolsey  in  West- 
minster. There  on  June  2nd  a  war  tax  was  voted  "being  no  less 
than  fifty  per  cent,  income  tax,  to  be  paid  by  installments  in  five 
years."  ^  Great  was  the  indignation  of  the  clergy  over  this  asser- 
tion of  the  legatine  power,  "whiche  was  never  sene  before  in  Eng- 
land, wherof  master  Skelton  a  mery  poet  wrote. 

'  Gentle  Paule  laie  doune  thy  swearde: 

For  Peter  of  Westminster  hath  shaven  thy  beard.'  "  ' 

Colin  Clout  if  not  so  "mery"  is  at  least  more  outspoken:  * 

But  they  are  loth  to  mell. 
And  loth  to  hang  the  bell 
Aboute  the  cattes  necke. 
For  drede  to  haue  a  checke; 
They  ar  fayne  to  play  deuz  decke. 
They  ar  made  for  the  becke. 

1  Thus  the  lines,  quoted  by  Bullein, 

How  the  Cardinall  came  of  nought 
And  his  Prelacie  solde  and  bought 
becomes  (Dyce  lines  585-6) 

Howe  prelacy  is  solde  and  bought. 
And  come  vp  of  nought.  .  . 

*  Brewer,  Reign  of  Henry  VIII,  i,  494. 

»  Hall,  King  Henry  the  VIII,  ed.  by  Charles  Whibley,  i,  287. 

*  Dyce,  i,  317-318. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  199 

How  be  it  they  are  good  men, 
Moche  herted  lyke  an  hen: 
Theyr  lessons  forgotten  they  haue 
That  Becket  them  gaue: 
Thomas  manum  mittit  adfortia, 
Spemit  damna,  spemit  opprobria. 
Nulla  Thomam  frangit  injuria. 
But  nowe  euery  spirituall  father. 
Men  say,  they  had  rather 
Spende  moche  of  theyr  share 
Than  to  be  combred  with  care: 
Spende!  nay,  nay,  but  spare; 
For  let  se  who  that  dare 
Sho  the  mockysshe  mare; 
They  make  her  wynche  and  keke. 
But  it  is  not  worth  a  leke: 
Boldnesse  is  to  seke 
The  Churche  for  to  defend. 

The  clergy  of  Henry  U,  typified  by  St.  Thomas  d  Becket,  were 
willing  to  die  to  defend  the  rights  of  the  Church  against  the  State, — 
and  the  Church  won;  the  clergy  of  Henry  VIII,  typified  by  Wolsey, 
weakly  voted  to  surrender  the  possessions  of  the  Church  to  the 
State,  and  had  rather  spend  much  of  their  share  than  to  be  en- 
cumbered with  care.  The  biting  antithesis  is  forced  home!  In 
1524  Wolsey  had  procured  from  Clement  VII  bulls  to  enable  him  to 
found  Cardinal  College  at  Oxford  and  to  endow  it  with  the  funds 
arising  from  the  suppression  of  a  number  of  small  monasteries. 
Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  posterity  concerning  Wolsey's 
action  in  the  matter,  concerning  the  relative  value  of  Cardinal 
College  on  the  one  hand  and  of  the  small  monasteries  on  the  other, 
to  the  sixteenth  century  it  was  a  high-handed  outrage.^  To  them, 
since  by  no  possible  latitude  of  construction  could  Wolsey  be  con- 
sidered as  carrying  out  the  wishes  of  the  donors,  it  seemed  a  mis- 
appropriation of  funds.  Skelton  here  is  the  mouthpiece  of  popular 
indignation:' 

Relygous  men  are  fayne 

For  to  toume  agayne 

In  secula  aeculorum. 

And  to  forsake  theyr  conun, 

'  James  Gairdner,  The  English  Church,  p.  81. 
»  Dyee.  i,  p.  325-327. 


200  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

And  vagabundare  per  forum. 

And  take  a  fyne  meriiorum. 

Contra  regulam  morum. 

Aid  blacke  monachorum, 

AtU  canonicorum. 

Aid  Bemardinorum, 

Aut  cnicifixorum. 

And  to  synge  from  place  to  place, 

Lyke  ap)ostataas. 

And  the  selfe  same  game 
Begone  ys  nowe  with  shame 
Amongest  the  sely  nonnes: 
My  lady  nowe  she  ronnes. 
Dame  Sybly  our  abbesse. 
Dame  Dorothe  and  lady  Besse, 
Dame  Sare  our  pryoresse. 
Out  of  theyr  cloyster  and  quere 
With  an  heuy  chere. 
Must  cast  up  theyr  blacke  vayles. 
And  set  vp  theyr  fucke  sayles. 
To  catche  wynde  with  their  ventales— 
What,  Colyne,  there  thou  shales! 
Yet  thus  with  yll  hayles 
The  lay  fee  people  rayles. 

And  all  the  fawte  they  lay 
On  you,  prelates,  and  say 
Ye  do  them  wrong  and  no  ryght 
To  put  them  thus  to  flyght; 
No  matyns  at  mydnyght, 
Boke  and  chalys  gone  quyte; 
And  plucke  awaye  the  leedes 
Evyn  ouer  theyr  heedes. 
And  sell  away  theyr  belles. 
And  all  that  they  haue  elles: 
Thus  the  people  telles, 
Rayles  like  rebelles, 
Redys  shrewdly  and  spelles. 
And  with  foundacyona  melles. 
And  talkys  lyke  tytyuelles, 
Howe  ye  brake  the  dedes  wylles, 
Tume  monasteris  into  water  milles. 
Of  an  abbay  ye  make  a  graimge; 
Your  workes,  they  saye,  are  straunge; 
So  that  theyr  founders  soules 
Haue  lost  theyr  beade  rolles. 
The  mony  for  theyr  masses 
Spent  amonge  wanton  lasses; 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  201 

The  Diriges  are  forgotten; 
Theyr  founders  lye  there  rotte;n. 
But  where  theyr  soules  dwell, 
Therwith  1  wyll  not  mell. 
What  coulde  the  Turke  do  more 
With  all  his  false  lore, 
Turke,  Sarazyn,  or  Jew? 
I  reporte  me  to  you, 
O  mercyfull  Jesu, 
You  supporte  and  rescue. 
My  style  for  to  dyrecte. 
It  may  take  some  effecte! 

Such  quotations  show  wherein  Colin  Chut  is  more  successful 
than  its  companion  piece  Why  Come  Ye  not  to  Court.  The  latter 
is  coarse,  personal  invective  based  on  malignant  gossip;  the  former 
appparently  deduces  its  attacks  from  incontrovertible  facts.  In 
the  first,  the  tone  is  that  of  a  private  quarrel;  in  the  second,  Skelton 
speaks  with  the  nation  behind  him.  And  herein  lies  the  power  of 
the  poem.  The  average  man  cared  little  for  what  did  not  im- 
mediately concern  him,  but  in  every  act  of  his  life  the  Church  did 
concern  him.  When  he  saw  her  in  danger,  when  the  monks  and 
nuns  went  wailing  through  the  countryside,  his  anger  was  kindled. 
Thus  whereas  Why  Come  Ye  not  to  Court  presents  the  case  of  the 
Cardinal  vs.  the  King,  Colin  Clout  is  Cardinal  vs.  the  People.  And 
no  one  was  more  keenly  alive  to  the  fact  that  his  government  was 
essentially  popular  than  Henry  himself.  The  popular  discontent 
found  its  spokesman  and  its  champion  in  the  one  poet  that  had 
both  the  courage  and  the  ability  to  express  it  to  the  full.  In  Skel- 
ton the  nation  found  its  voice. 

The  explanation  of  such  daring  utterance  as  Colin  Clout  is 
fortunately  given  us  by  Skelton  himself  in  his  next  poem,  A 
Replycadon  agaynsi  Certayne  Yong  Scolers  Abiured  of  Late,  &c. 
This  poem  must  have  been  composed  after  December  8th,  1527, 
because  it  was  on  that  date  ^  that  the  young  scholars,  Thomas 
Bilney  and  Thomas  Arthur,  abjured.  And  it  is  almost  a  certainty 
that  the  reference  is  to  them.  The  first  part  of  it  consists  of  in- 
vective in  mingled  verse  and  prose.    Then  follows,  with  a  sub-title,^ 

A  confutacion  responsyue,  or  an  ineuytably  prepensed  answere  to  all  waywarde 
or  frowarde  altercacyons  that  can  or  may  be  made  or  obiected  agaynst  Skelton 
laureate,  deuyser  of  this  Replycacyon,  &c. 

'  This  was  first  shown  by  Brie.  *  Dyce,  i,  p.  219. 


202  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Apparently  the  poet  feels  that  he  may  be  criticised  on  the  ground 
that  it  is  none  of  his  affair.  To  answer  this  objection  he  explains 
the  function  of  the  poet.  If  his  opponents  object  that  poetry 
"maye  nat  flye  so  hye"  as  to  deal  with  matters  appertaining  to 
theology  and  philosophy,  they  are  requested  to  remember  the 
example  set  by  David,  whom  Jerome  (and  the  passage  is  cited  at 
length  with  an  English  translation),  calls  prophet  of  prophets,  and 
poet  of  poets.  Thus  with  the  functions  of  the  poet  are  combined 
those  of  the  prophet.  Consequently  for  the  poet  he  claims  divine 
inspiration. 

Howe  there  is  a  spyrituall. 

And  a  mysteriall. 

And  a  mysticall 

Effecte  energiall. 

As  Grekes  do  it  call. 

Of  suche  an  industry. 

And  suche  a  pregnacy. 

Of  heuenly  inspyracion 

In  laureate  creacyon. 

Of  poetes  commendacion. 

That  of  diuyne  myseracion 

God  maketh  his  habytacion 

In  poetes  whiche  excelles. 

And  soioums  with  them  and  dwelles. 

By  whose  inflammacion 
Of  spyrituall  instygacion 
And  diuyne  inspyracion. 
We  are  kyndled  in  suche  facyon 
With  hete  of  the  Holy  Gost, 
Which  is  God  of  myghtes  most. 
That  he  our  penne  dothe  lede. 
And  maketh  in  vs  suche  spede. 
That  forthwith  we  must  nede 
With  penne  and  ynke  procede, 
Somtyme  for  afiFection, 
Somtyme  for  sadde  dyrection, 
Somtyme  for  correction, 
Somtyme  vnder  protection 
Of  pacient  sufferance. 
With  sobre  cyrcumstance. 
Our  myndes  to  auaunce 
To  no  mannes  anoyance.  .  .* 

*  Dyce,  i,  p.  222. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  20S 

Such  a  passage,  coming  as  it  does  in  the  dawn  of  the  Renaissance, 
is  interesting  as  being  so  extreme  an  expression  of  a  theory  of 
poetics  afterwards  elaborated  by  Sidney  and  still  current  today. 
According  to  this  theory,  the  poet  as  vates  is  only  the  medium 
through  which  the  Divine  Will  expresses  itself.  Consequently, — 
and  Skelton  does  not  hesitate  to  affirm  the  inevitable  deduction, — 
the  responsibility  for  that  expression  rests,  not  upon  the  poet,  but 
upon  God. 

But  this  passage,  coming  in  the  context  where  it  does,  seems 
curiously  apologetic.  It  is  not  quite  clear  for  what  he  is  apologiz- 
ing. The  body  of  the  poem  is  an  assertion  of  orthodoxy  on  the 
part  of  the  poet  and  of  virulent  condemnation  for  those  asserting 
the  right  of  individual  judgment  contrary  to  the  decrees  of  the 
Church.  For  this,  surely,  there  would  be  no  need  to  invoke  the 
doctrine  of  plenary,  poetic  inspiration.  The  striking  peculiarity 
of  this  situation  becomes  emphasized  when  taken  in  connection 
with  the  dedication  of  the  poem. 

Honorificattssimo,  ampHssimo,  longeque  reverendissimo  in  Christo  patri,  ac  domino, 
domino  Thomce,  &c.  titidi  sanclee  Cecilice,  sacrosanctce  Romance  ecclesioe  presbytero, 
Cardinali  meritissimo,  et  apostolicae  sedia  legato,  a  latereque  legato  au-perUlxiatri, 
«tc.,  Skeltonis  laitreatus,  ora,  reg,,  humillimum  dicil  obsequium  cum  omni  debita 
reverentia,  tanto  tamque  magnifico  digna  principe  sacerdotum,  totiusque  justitice  cequa- 
bilissimo  moderalore,  necnon  prcesentis  opusculi'fautore  excellentissimo,  &c.,  ad  cujus 
auspicaliasimam  contemplationem,  sub  memorabUi  prelo  gloriosce  immortalitatis, 
praaens  pagellafelicitatur,  &c. 

When  one  realizes  that  the  very  honorable,  very  great  and  by 
far  the  most  reverend  father  in  Christ  is  the  same  Cardinal  Wolsey 
to  whom  but  two  or  three  years  before  Skelton  was  alluding  in 
terms  the  reverse  of  complimentary,  the  question  arises  what  is 
the  explanation  of  such  an  astounding  change  of  front.  The 
situation  presupposes  both  a  moral  obloquy  on  the  part  of  the 
author  and  a  general  obtuseness  on  the  part  of  the  Cardinal.  The 
obvious  solution  is,  by  denying  Skelton's  authorship,  to  put  the 
blame  upon  the  printer.  However  true  this  may  be  of  the  other 
three  similar  dedications,^  it  certainly  does  not  hold  here.  Al- 
though printed  by  Pynson  without  date,  yet  as  Pynson  died  in 
1530,  only  a  year  after  Skelton  himself,  the  publication  of  the  poem 

*  The  other  three  dedications  of  Skelton's  poems  appear  long  after  his  death, 
and  may  perhaps  be  interpolations. 


204  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

must  have  been  at  the  extreme  only  three  years  after  its  com- 
position, and  probably  was  during  the  poet's  Ufetime.  Under 
these  conditions  the  motive  that  might  cause  Pynson  in  Skelton's 
name  to  forge  a  dedication  to  the  poet's  avowed  enemy  seems  in- 
explicable. Consequently  the  inference  seems  unavoidable  that 
here  the  dedication  is  genuine.  And  as  there  is  no  record  of  any 
act  of  Wolsey  to  justify  such  a  change  of  opinion,  the  explanation 
must  be  sought  in  the  life  of  Skelton  himself.  Although  in  all  this 
we  are  wandering  in  a  maze  of  inference  and  guesswork,  the 
answer  to  the  question  seems  to  have  been  found  in  a  discovery 
of  Dr.  SeBoyar.^  In  a  report  of  the  visitation  of  Bishop  Nicke  to 
the  Cathedral  of  Norwich,  1526,  he  brought  to  light  the  fact  that 
a  Dominus  Johannes  Shelton  has  been  accused  of  gravia  crimina 
et  nephanda  peccata.  The  identification  of  this  Dominus  Johannes 
Shelton  with  the  poet,  whose  name  was  sometimes  so  spelled,  and 
who  at  this  time  was  in  the  diocese  of  Norwich,  seems  to  fill  all  the 
conditions.  Traditionally  it  was  with  Bishop  Nicke  that  his 
trouble  arose.^  The  difficulty  came  from  his  disordered  life  in 
general,  and  in  particular  from  his  having  a  concubine.  But  that 
this  was  the  charge  does  not  seem  probable.  When  Wolsey's  own 
laxity  in  such  matters  is  considered,  to  him  as  judge  it  could  not 
have  been  a  serious  charge.  On  the  other  hand,  at  a  time  when 
heresy  was  a  capital  offense,  such  extreme  denunciation  against 
the  officers  of  the  Church  might  easily  be  construed  as  an  attack 
upon  the  Church  itself.  And  if  it  be  true  that  in  1526  he  was 
arrested  on  a  charge  of  heresy,  both  the  Replycacion  and  the 
dedication  are  explained.  In  the  poem  he  shows  himself  a  zealous 
follower  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Church,  severely  censuring  those 
that  asserted  the  right  of  individual  judgment,  and  cleverly  adding 
an  apology  for  the  freedom  of  his  poetic  utterance;  he  then  dedi- 
cates it  to  the  Cardinal  as  an  appeal  for  justice,  as  one  iotius  jiis- 
tituB  OBquahilissimo  moderatore.  If  this  be  the  explanation,  the 
appeal  failed,  and  Wolsey's  resentment  was  stronger  than  his 
sense  of  justice,  because  on  June  21st.,  1529,  Skelton  died  in  the 
sanctuary  of  Westminster.    Four  months  later,  his  great  enemy 

^  Modem  Language  Notes,  December,  1913. 

*  In  the  Merie  Tales  of  Skelton  and  in  ^.  C.  Mery  Talys,  although  the  precise 
anecdotes  may  be  apocryphal,  there  must  be  a  broad  outline  of  fact.  The  parts  re- 
lating to  Skelton  in  both  of  these  are  reprinted  in  Dyce,  i,  Ivii-lxxiiii. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  205 

also  died, — ^and  in  disgrace.  To  say  that  Skelton's  satires  caused 
the  disgrace  of  Wolsey  is  absurd;  to  say  that  Skelton's  satires, 
however,  by  powerfully  stating  popular  discontent,  and  by  this 
very  expression  increasing  it,  form  an  appreciable  factor  in  the 
catastrophe  is  credible.  As  in  the  case  of  the  humanistic  prose, 
so  out  of  English  poetry  was  forged  a  weapon  of  attack, — and  the 
power  of  the  press  became  potent.  From  this  point  of  view  in  the 
dedication  there  is  an  element  of  pathos.  With  the  battle  almost 
won,  the  poet  surrenders  in  a  sequence  of  fawning  superlatives. 
HonorificatissimOy  amplissimOy  longeque  reverendissimo  in  Christo 
patri! 

This  analysis  of  Skelton's  satires  becomes  justifiable,  when  it 
is  realised  that  he  is  interesting,  not  merely  in  himself,  but  as  a 
type  of  many  unknown  writers.  By  his  relations  with  the  Court 
and,  probably  by  his  personal  idiosyncrasies,  his  personality  was 
dominant  at  the  time  and  has  come  down  through  the  ages.  But 
the  form  that  he  used  was  not  peculiar  to  himself.  "Skeltonic" 
verse  was  not  his  invention.  Such  an  adaptation  of  the  Medieval 
Latin  was  normal  with  the  pre-humanistic  Churchman.  And  as 
such  poems  were  satiric,  naturally  they  were  anonymous.^  Pro- 
vided the  arrow  struck,  it  was  immaterial  from  which  bow  it 
came.  Written  to  attack  an  institution  or  a  person,  at  a  time  when 
such  an  attack  involved  the  author  in  peril  of  his  life,  printed,  if 
at  all,  in  the  form  of  a  broadside,  it  is  literature  for  the  day  and 
hour.  The  wonder  is  that  so  much  of  it  has  survived.  To  us,  ig- 
norant of  the  local  conditions,  much  of  it  is  necessarily  obscure 
and  time  has  blunted  its  edge.  But  as  these  poems  are  classed 
together  because  of  the  form,  and  as  the  form  was  the  common 
inheritance  of  the  age,  there  is  no  necessary  similarity  in  content 
between  them.  For  example,  the  Vox  populi  is  an  attack  upon  the 
economic  conditions  in  the  reign  of  Heniy  VII,  and,  as  such,  may 
be  profitably  compared  with  the  first  book  of  More's  Utopia;  the 
Genealogy e  ofHeresye,  as  the  name  implies,  is  against  the  reformers; 
and  the  Image  of  Ipocrysy  is  against  the  Church.    Especially  is  it 

'  It  is  to  be  remarked  in  passing  that,  as  the  first  collected  edition  of  Skelton's 
works,  that  of  1568,  was  forty  years  after  his  death,  the  canon  of  his  writings  is 
far  from  being  settled.  All  that  he  wrote  is  not  included  in  the  Dyce  edition,  nor 
is  all  in  the  Dyce  edition  by  him.  A  modem  critical  edition  of  Skelton  is,  there- 
fore, greatly  to  be  desired ! 


206  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

evident  that,  in  the  struggle  following  the  Reformation,  the  same 
form  was  used  by  writers  of  both  parties,  because  they  had  the 
same  antecedents.  And  equally  today  such  poems  are  interesting 
only  to  the  antiquarian.  In  form  they  are  characterized  by  the 
use  of  short  riming  couplets,  or  tercets,  or  even  more,  and  by  the 
fact  that  the  poem  is  divided  into  verse  paragraphs.  In  form, 
then,  they  resemble  Skelton's  satires.  This  is  the  simple  type. 
Unfortunately  for  the  purpose  of  the  analyst,  as  authors  are 
moved  not  by  one  but  by  several  impulses,  their  works  are  rarely 
representative  of  one  force  only.  This  is  the  difficulty  of  the  class 
that  we  have  now  to  consider.  With  a  measure  of  propriety  they 
might  be  discussed  under  Medieval  Latin  influence,  under  human- 
ism, and  under  Germanic  influence.  The  stanza  forms  employed 
are  both  the  rime-royal  and  the  tetrameter  stanza  riming  abbacc; 
they  are  polemic  dialogues,  and  many  are  printed,  if  not  actually 
written,  in  Germany.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Germanic  factor  is 
due  to  the  effect  of  political  difficulties.  They  were  written  by 
Englishmen,  largely  concerning  English  affairs,  and  with  the  de- 
sire that  they  should  be  read  in  England.  Therefore,  the  Ger- 
manic element  is  reduced  to  the  lowest  fraction.^  The  fact  that 
they  belong  to  the  group  of  polemic  dialogues  shows  the  human- 
istic influence.  It  is  true  that  in  Medieval  Latin,  one  finds  the 
conflictus, — a  debate  between  personages  representing  antithetic 
points  of  view.  The  peculiarity  here,  however,  is,  as  in  so  many  of 
the  Colloquies  of  Erasmus,  that  the  characters  combine  to  present 
a  single  impression.  The  dialogue  is  used  for  exposition  and  for 
attack.  But  there  is  nothing  surprising  in  this  combination  of  the 
three  factors,  the  Germanic  influence,  humanism  and  the  Medieval 
Latin.  It  belongs  to  the  period.  The  cleavage  between  the  Catho- 
Ucs  and  the  Reformers  has  now  become  world-wide.  The  tone  on 
each  side  has  become  contemptuous  and  bitter.  No  longer  is  it 
possible,  as  it  was  for  Skelton  and  Erasmus,  both  to  love  the  Church 
and  to  criticise  her  because  of  that  love.  The  criticism,  now,  is 
generated  by  hate.  But  the  methods  by  which  the  humanists 
had  made  effective  their  criticism  had  not  been  forgotten;  their 
weapons  were  reforged  for  a  more  deadly  battle.  And  if  the  Church 
had  been  restive  imder  the  well-intentioned  satire  of  Erasmus  and 
the  State  under  the  plain-speaking  of  Skelton,  it  was  inevitable 
^  The  reader  is  requested  to  refer  to  pp.  381  f.  for  a  detailed  discussion. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  207 

that  neither  England  nor  any  Catholic  country  would  have  been 
safe  for  these  new  writers, — that  reformed  Germany  was  of  ne- 
cessity their  refuge. 

But  these  writers  were  not  Germans  and  they  were  not  human- 
ists; dominantly  they  belong  among  those  influenced  by  the  Med- 
ieval Latin  tradition.  Although  the  majority  of  the  early  "mar- 
tyrs "  mentioned  by  Foxe  belonged  to  the  lower  class,  clearly  some, 
such  as  Bilney,  Barnes,  Roy,  Barlow,  Frith  and  Tyndale,  were 
educated  in  accordance  with  the  theories  of  the  order.  ^  And  it  was 
these  men  who  voiced  the  feelings  of  their  party.  In  them,  the 
Reformation  became  articulate.  However  much  they  might  be 
»  influenced  by  other  forces,  logically  one  would  expect  to  find  their 
work  characterized  by  the  peculiarities  of  the  Medieval  Latin.  The 
illustration  of  this  reasoning  may  be  found  in  A  Proper  Dyaloge 
between  a  Geniillman  and  a  husbandman  eche  complaynynge  to 
other  their  miserable  calamite  through  the  ambicion  of  the  clergye, 
published  at  Marburg  1530.^  Just  at  this  time  Tyndale  was  there 
translating  the  New  Testament,  and  it  was  presumably  from  a 
member  of  the  group  associated  with  him  that  the  dialogue  em- 
anated. As,  on  October  24,  1526,  Tyndale's  New  Testament  had 
been  pubHcly  burned  at  St.  Paul's  Cross,  at  Marburg  the  ques- 
tion of  an  English  version  of  the  Scriptures,  it  may  be  assumed,  had 
paramount  importance.  The  Roman  Catholic  party,  according  to 
More,  did  not  object  to  an  English  version;  they  did  object  to  that 
particular  version  on  account  of  the  numerous  changes.  The 
Reformers  believed,  or  affected  to  believe,  that  any  English  ver- 
sion was  forbidden. 

Yf  the  holy  gospell  allege  we  shuld 

As  stronge  heretikes  take  vs  they  would 

Vnto  their  churche  disobedient. 
For  why  they  haue  commaundcd  straytely 
That  none  vnder  great  payne  be  so  hardye 

To  haue  in  englishe  the  testament. 
Which  as  thou  knowest  at  London 
The  bisshop  makinge  ther  a  sermon 

With  shamefull  blasphemy  was  brent.* 

*  Cf.  J.  S.  Brewer's,  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Vol.  IV,  Introduction,  page  del. 

*  This  has  been  reprinted  by  Arber  in  the  same  volume  with  Rede  me  and  be  not 
torothe  in  his  English  Reprints  series,  p.  125. 

»  Op.  cit.,  146-7. 


208  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

It  would  be  diflBcult  to  find  a  more  striking  illustration  of  the  folly 
of  publicly  prohibiting  a  book  than  this,  the  burning  of  Tyndale's 
version.  The  real  motive  was,  of  course,  not  understood,  and  the 
imputed  motive  given  wide  currency.  The  poem  argues  that  the 
English  version  was  forbidden,  because  the  Church  was  afraid 
to  have  the  people  read  it,  since  in  life  and  dogma  the  Church  had 
so  departed  from  the  teaching  of  the  Christ;  and  that  this  had  been 
the  case  for  generations.  Consequently  Sir  John  Oldcastle  and 
Duke  Humphrey  of  Gloucester  are  cited  as  previous  sufferers.  To 
drive  home  the  continued  contumacy  of  the  clergy,  in  the  middle 
of  the  poem  is  inserted  a  prose  tract  "made  aboute  the  tyme  of 
kynge  Rycharde  the  seconde."  The  main  interest  today  in  the  < 
piece  is  due  to  its  curious  composite  nature.  The  first  twenty-three 
stanzas  are  in  the  rime-royal;  then  follows  the  dialogue  in  the 
conventional  scheme  aabccb.  The  late  date  of  composition  is  in- 
dicated, however,  by  the  fact  that  the  couplets  are  in  pentameter 
and  the  differentia  in  tetrameter.  Then  follows  the  prose  inser- 
tion. This  significant  sequence  shows  the  natural  development  of 
the  form  for  propagandist  purposes,  first  the  long  and  clumsy 
rime-royal,  then  the  dialogue  in  stanzas,  and  finally  verse  entirely 
discarded  for  prose.  Of  literary  value  there  is  little.  It  was  writ- 
ten for  a  particular  time,  and  for  a  particular  occasion.  In  so  far  as 
it  met  the  exigencies  of  that  time  and  of  that  occasion  the  author  * 
was  satisfied  without  considering  the  possiblcjcommendation  of  pos- 
terity. At  least  he  may  be  praised  for  having  kept  his  attack  upon 
a  definite  intellectual  level  and  free  from  violent  personal  abuse. 

Much  the  same  general  situation  confronts  us  in  the  more 
celebrated  satire  Rede  me  and  he  nott  wrothe.  For  I  saye  no  thinge 
but  trothe.^  This  title  is  obviously  ironic;  in  fact,  whatever  celeb- 
rity it  enjoys  is  presumably  due  to  its  virulence.  Although  it  was 
issued  anonymously,  as  early  as  1529  More  in  his  Supplycacyon 
of  Soidys  ^  definitely  names  the  authors  as  Friar  Roy  and  Friar 
Jerome.  This  is  in  a  measure  confirmed  by  Tyndale  in  his  Preface 
to  the  wycked  Mammon. 

^  This  is  often  attributed  to  either  Roy  or  Barlow. 

*  This  was  reprinted  in  the  Harleian  Miscellany,  in  facsimile,  by  Charles  Whit- 
tingham,  Chiswick,  in  1845,  and  by  Arber  in  his  Reprints.  The  facts  concerning  its 
authorship  are  given  by  Arber. 

*  Quoted  by  Arber  in  his  introduction. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  209 

A  yere  after  that  and  now  xii  monethes  before  the  pryntinge  of  this  worke/came 
one  lerom  a  brother  of  Grenewich  also/thorow  wormes  to  Argentine  sayenge  that 
he  entended  to  be  Christes  disciple  an  other  whyle  and  to  kepe  (as  nye  God  wolde 
gyue  him  grace)  the  profession  of  his  baptim/and  to  gett  his  lyuing  with  his  handes 
and  to  lyuve  no  longer  ydely  and  of  the  swete  and  laboure  of  those  captyues  whiche 
they  had  taught/not  to  byleue  in  Chryst:  but  in  cuttshowes  and  russet  coetes. 
Which  lerom  with  all  diligence  I  warned  of  Royes  boldnesse  and  exhorted  hym  to 
bewarre  of  hym  and  to  walked  quyetly  and  with  all  pacience  and  longe  sofferinge 
acordinge  as  we  haue  Chryste  and  his  apostles  for  an  ensample/which  thinge  he 
also  promysed  me.  Neuerthelesse  when  he  was  comen  to  Argentine  William  Roye 
(whose  tonge  is  able  not  only  to  make  foles  sterke  madde/but  also  to  disceyue  the 
wisest  that  is  at  the  fyrst  syght  and  acquayntaunce)  gate  him  to  hym  and  set  him 
a  werke  to  make  rymes/whyle  he  hym  selfe  translated  a  dialoge  out  of  laten  in  to 
Englysh/in  whose  prologe  he  promyseth  moare  a  greate  deal  than  I  fere  me  he  wyll 
euer  paye. 

More's  attribution  is  stated  as  a  fact  in  Bale's  life,  the  whole  of 
which  is  here  translated.* 

William  Roye,  a  not  unlearned  man  of  his  age,  wrote  in  his  native  language: 
Between  a  Christian  Father  and  his  Obstinate  Son 

A  Christian  Dialogue  Bk.  1.  It  is  not  unknown  to  you,  dearest. 

Against  Cardinal  Wolsey  Bk.  1.  Go  forthe  lytell  treatous  nothynge. 

And  certain  others.    He  flourished  Anno  Domini  1530. 

Such  are  the  facts. 

It  seems  worth  while  to  me  thus  to  state  in  extenso  the  original 
authorities,  to  show  how  very  slender  is  the  foundation  of  fact 
upon  which  has  been  reared  the  mountain  of  assertion.  Nor  is 
this  peculiar  to  this  one  case.  Such  works  were  almost  of  necessity 
published  anonymously,  the  authorship  was  known  to  but  few, 
and  the  modem  attribution  is  based  upon  a  casual  reference. 

But  if  it  be  granted  that  More  has  rea.son  for  his  belief,  that  the 
authors  of  the  poem  were  the  two  friars  William  Roy  and  Jerome, 
from  the  Calendar  of  State  Papers  it  becomes  easy  to  identify  them, 
because  both  appear  in  the  political  correspondence  of  the  time. 
Roy  has  been  sufficiently  characterized  by  Tyndale,  albeit  some- 
what unfavorably;  again  on  the  authority  of  More,  it  is  supposed 
that  he  was  burned  as  a  heretic  in  Portugal.-  The  Friar  Jerome 
associated  with  him  in  the  State  Papers  is  Jerome  Barlow.    The 

1  Scriptorum  Britannia,   1559,  p.  102  in  the  section  In  Ipsa  Brytannia  Nati. 
In  translating  the  Latin  I  have  used  the  actual  English  words  of  the  poem. 
*  More's  Confutacyon,  quoted  by  Arber. 


210  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

most  vivid  picture  of  the  pair  is  given  in  a  letter  to  Wolsey  from 
John  West  and  John  Lawrence,  Observant  Friars,  dated  June  12, 
1529.1 

From  information  given  by  John  Stanleye,  sometime  the  familiar  of  our  convent 
at  Richmond,  we  have  made  diligent  inquiry  for  Roye  in  the  Grey  Friars  in  the 
town  of  Yarmouth,  but  can  obtain  no  knowledge  of  him.  A  schoolmaster  of  the 
same  town  spake  and  drank  with  Roye  betwixt  Lestoe  (Lowestoft)  and  Yarmouth, 
in  Ascension  week,  and  showed  us  the  features  and  the  secret  marks  of  his  face, 
the  manner  of  his  speaking,  his  apparel,  "and  how  he  does  speak  all  manner  of  lan- 
guages." On  asking  Roye  whence  he  came  and  where  he  was  going,  he  said  he  came 
from  over  sea,  and  would  go  to  the  North  parts;  so  we  took  our  journey  from  Yar- 
mouth to  Norwich,  supposing  to  gain  more  knowledge  of  him.  But  coming  to 
Langley  Abbey  we  met  a  young  man,  come  out  of  the  North  parts,  from  Lincoln- 
shire, and  we  asked  if  he  had  seen  such  a  person,  and  he  said  that  two  days  before 
he  had  met  the  said  person  a  little  beyond  Attellbryge  on  the  way  to  Lyne,  and  an- 
other with  him,  who  had  a  red  head,  which  by  all  likelihood  should  be  Jerome  Bar- 
lowe,  his  companion.  When  they  approached  his  company,  Roye  left  the  highway, 
and  hid  his  face,  but  the  fellow  with  the  red  head  demanded  of  this  young  man  the 
way  to  Lyne,  and  then  they  made  great  speed,  which  made  the  young  man  suspect 
that  they  had  done  some  mischief. 

From  this  time  Jerome  Barlow  disappears  completely  from  view.^ 
We  leave  him  with  his  red  head  still  going  north. 

In  form,  the  work  which  gives  to  these  two  writers  their  preca- 
rious reputation  is  simple  enough.  The  main  body  is  a  "  brefe  "  (?) 
dialogue  in  two  parts  between  the  priest's  servants,  named 
Watkyn  and  Jeffray.  The  stanza  is  the  octosyllabic  aabccb,' 
broken  by  occasional  insertion  of  "ballads  "  in  the  rime-royal.  But 
this  is  preceded  by  a  series  of  introductions.  The  first  three  stanzas 
of  rime-royal  satirize  bitterly  the  Cardinal.    Then  follows  a  prose 

1  Calendar  of  State  Papers.  Vol.  IV,  Part  3,  p.  2503. 

*  It  seems  unnecessary  to  remark  that  there  should  be  no  confusion  between 
Jerome  Barlow,  the  Observant  Friar,  and  William  Barlow,  the  Augustinian  canon, 
who  afterwards  became  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  were  it  not  that  such  confusion  has 
been  made  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography.  The  only  characteristic  in 
common  between  them  is  that  each  wrote  dialogues. 

>  This  is  a  common  stanza  form  in  Medieval  Latin,  i.  e.. 

Tales  regunt  Petri  navem,  hi  nos  decent,  sed  indocti, 

tales  habent  Petri  clavem,  hi  nos  docent,  et  nox  nocti, 

ligandi  potentiam;  indicat  scientiam. 

De  Ruina  Romae,  Walter  Mapes,  ed.  Wright,  p.  220. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  211 

letter  to  P.G.N.O.  of  five  pages  vmtten  in  the  conventional 
evangelical  style.  Fourteen  stanzas  in  rime-royal  succeed,  forming 
a  dialogue  between  the  Author  of  the  Work  and  the  Treatise;  this 
is  an  expansion  of  the  "go  little  book"  convention.  This  intro- 
ductory matter  is  closed  by  thirty-four  stanzas  of  a  mock  lamenta- 
tion on  the  decease  of  the  mass.  These  stanzas  have  the  rime- 
scheme  of  the  rime-royal  but  vary  from  it,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
the  last  two  lines  form  a  refrain,  and  the  last  hne  is  always  an 
octosyllabic,  "Nowe  deceased/alas  alas. "  So  far  as  the  mere  form 
is  considered,  it  is  what  might  normally  be  expected  from  the  date 
and  the  authors.  The  bulk  of  the  work  shows  the  influence  of 
Medieval  Latin, — the  writers  had  been  Observant  Friars, — ^but 
the  dialogue  is  humanistic  in  its  exposition  of  a  single  point  of 
view,  and  the  use  of  the  rime-royal  shows  the  influence  of  the 
English  tradition.  Thus,  although  there  is  novelty  in  the  com- 
bination, each  of  the  composing  elements  is  familiar. 

The  novelty  in  the  content,  however,  consists  in  that  portion 
which  caused  More  to  allude  to  the  work  as  "the  blasphemouse 
boke  entytled  the  beryeng  of  the  masse. "  Here  the  Mass  is  per- 
sonified and  announced  as  dead.^  But  this  is  only  a  small  fraction 
of  the  whole.  The  suggestion  that  the  power  of  the  gospel  will 
compel  the  EngUsh  clergy  to  bury  the  dead  Mass,  leads  to  an 
attack  upon  the  Bishop  of  London  for  the  burning  of  Tyndale's 
New  Testament.  And  this,  in  turn,  leads  to  an  attack  upon 
Cardinal  Wolsey.  From  this  point  for  page  after  page  follows  a 
succession  of  attacks  upon  the  Church  in  England  and  her  minis- 
ters. Clearly  written  for  propaganda,  for  this  purpose  there  is  no 
insinuation  too  base,  no  slander  too  vile.  They  do  not  even  spare 
the  order  of  which  they  were  formerly  members !  As  it  was  written 
merely  for  the  reading  public  of  that  age,  the  allusions  require 
today  a  special  knowledge  of  the  period.^  They  state  that  Hunn 
was  murdered,  that  Standish  is  a  Judas,  and  that  Erasmus  for 
writing  his  De  Libera  Arbitrio  was  paid  by  a  pension  from  Henry. 
Naturally  it  is  Wolsey  who  receives  the  full  measure  of  their 
hatred.    Every  possible  scandal  is  raked  together  to  anathematize 

'  For  a  discussion  of  Herford's  theory  of  the  German  origin  of  this  conception 
cf.  p.  441. 

*  To  understand  the  work.  Park's  notes  in  the  Ilarleian  Miscellany,  Vol.  IX,  are 
almost  necessary. 


212  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  great  minister.  Except  for  the  royal  family,  Henry,  Katberine 
and  Mary,  everyone  connected  with  the  Church  and  the  orders 
of  the  Church  is  most  foully  dealt  with.  If  there  were  any  desire 
to  present  the  truth,  the  work  would  be  interesting  as  throwing 
Ught  upon  persons  and  conditions  in  a  transition  period;  if  the 
work  represented  even  the  opinions  of  a  party,  there  would  be  an 
historic  value.  However  wrong  we  might  think  them,  we  would 
be  glad  to  know  what  people  thought  at  the  time.  On  neither  of 
these  counts  does  the  piece  seem  to  me  to  have  much  value. 
Written  anonymously  and  circulated  secretly,  it  is  an  underground 
sewer  of  vile,  corrupted  matter.  To  call  it  a  satire  is  to  justify 
billingsgate,  since  whatever  power  it  may  have  arises  from  the 
fact  that  the  two  authors  lack  any  restraint  in  making  their  nasty 
accusations.  The  plea  may  be  made  that  they  felt  that  in  fighting 
against  the  party  in  power  any  method  was  justifiable,  and  that 
by  their  writing  they  were  running  the  risk  of  their  fives.  However 
convincing  this  may  be  as  an  explanation  of  the  motive,  it  does 
not  alter  the  fact  that  the  result  is  disgraceful.^ 

But  poetry  of  this  type  in  the  Medieval  Latin  was  not  limited 
to  the  satiric.  With  Latin  the  common  medium,  naturally  the 
poetic  measures  used  by  the  Church  were  also  employed  to  express 
all  varieties  of  secular  matters.  At  the  taverns  university  students 
carolled  the  charms  of  Bacchus  and  Venus;  lovers  extolled  the 
delights  of  their  mistresses,  and  travellers  wrote  accounts  of  their 
experiences.  But  through  them  all  runs  an  element  of  the  im- 
promptu. It  is  this  that  gives  the  poems  their  charm.  The  writers 
do  not  take  themselves  seriously,  they  are  weighed  down  neither 
with  fiterary  dogma,  nor  with  conventional  morality.  They 
breathe  immortal  youth,  with  its  joyousness,  its  passion,  and  its 
unrestraint.  To  this  type,  perfection  of  form  and  a  nicely  co- 
ordinated balance  of  parts  is  foreign.  There  is  no  total  imity  and 
no  logical  development.  Here,  in  despite  of  the  axiom,  the  parts 
are  greater  than  the  whole.  This  condition  it  is  that  has  caused 
such  a  variance  of  opinion  concerning  Skelton's  poem,  Phillip 

^  As  I  have  expressed  my  opinion  emphatically,  it  is  only  fair  to  quote  Arber's 
judgment:  "Intrinsically  it  is  one  of  the  worthiest  Satires  in  our  language.  Its 
spirit  is  excellent.  /  say  no  thinge  but  trothe  is  its  true  motto.  It  is  more  salt 
than  bitter:  and  where  bitter,  it  is  more  from  its  facts  than  its  expression." 
P.  7. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  21S 

Sparrow.  It  is  long,  rambling,  and  incoherent.  Its  thirteen 
hundred  and  eighty- two  Unes  are  broken  into  three  distinct  parts; 
first  a  dramatic  monologue,  secondly,  a  commendation  of  the 
suppositious  author  of  the  first  part,  and  thirdly,  a  protest  against 
criticism.  Between  the  three  there  is  no  organic  relation.  Over 
half  of  the  whole  is  occupied  by  the  dramatic  monologue  from 
which  the  entire  collection  takes  its  name.  This  purports  to  be 
the  lament  of  Joanna  Scroupe,  staying  with  the  black  nims  at 
Carowe,  for  the  loss  of  Phillip,  her  sparrow, 

Whom  Gyb  our  cat  hath  slayne.* 

On  this  thin  theme  are  strung  descriptions  of  the  sparrow,  in- 
vectives against  the  cat,  a  long  disquisition  on  literature,  a  mock 
mass  of  the  birds,  etc.  The  form  employed  is  riming  couplets 
of  short  lines.  Even  by  this  short  analysis,  the  poem  obviously 
belongs  to  the  type  found  in  Medieval  Latin. 

But  the  fact  that  Phillip  Sparrow  is  modelled  after  the  neo- 
Latin  form,  does  not  argue  on  the  part  of  the  poet  ignorance  of 
classical  poetry.  Although  for  his  purpose  he  preferred  this 
form,  he  both  wrote  humanistic  Latin  and  read  classical  authors. 
His  Poeta  Skelton  Laureatus  Libellum  suum  Metrice  Alloquitur  is 
in  regular  elegiacs;  his  allusions  to  classical  authors  have  already 
been  mentioned.  And  he  proclaimed  himself  the  British  Catullus. 
Therefore,  those  scholars  that  have  seen  in  this  poem  a  desire  to 
imitate  the  second  and  third  poems  of  Catullus  are  merely  stating 
the  case  too  strongly.  Probably  the  fact  that  the  Roman  writer 
has  previously  bewailed  the  loss  of  a  sparrow  may  have  made  the 
subject  more  attractive  to  the  Englishman.  Still  more,  certain 
similarities  are  suggestive.   The  lines. 

It  had  a  veluet  cap. 

And  wold  syt  vpon  my  lap. 

And  seke  after  small  wormes. 

And  somtyme  white  bred  crommes; 

And  many  tymes  and  ofte 

Betweene  my  brestes  softe 

It  wolde  lye  and  rest; 

It  was  propre  and  preat,* 

»  Line  27.  «  Linea,  140-7. 


214  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

have  a  certain  resemblance  to  the  Latin 

nee  sese  a  gremio  illius  movebat, 

sed  circumsilieos  modo  hue  modo  illuc 

ad  solam  dominam  usque  pipiabat. 

Not  unnaturally,  in  so  loose  a  form  as  that  which  he  had  chosen, 
there  was  a  tendency  to  put  in  any  reminiscence  or  allusion  that 
seemed  germane  to  the  subject.  Since  he  knew  the  classics,  that 
knowledge  occasionally  appears. 

But  the  value  of  the  poem  is  not  due  to  classical  influence.  That 
lies  in  the  manner  in  which  it  mirrors  the  age  and,  also,  the  per- 
sonality of  the  poet.  The  poem  is  read  today  partly  because  it 
furnishes  so  much  information  concerning  literary  conditions 
early  in  the  sixteenth  century.  His  struggle  with  the  language, 
his  estimation  of  Chaucer,  Gower,  and  Lydgate,  his  account  of 
the  books  then  read,  all  combine  to  create  a  legitimate,  although 
scarcely  a  literary,  interest.  From  this  point  of  view  it  is  regarded, 
not  so  much  as  a  poem,  as  a  document,  and  as  such  is  often  quoted, 
just  as  in  the  present  work  there  has  been  occasion  to  quote  from 
it.  Useful  as  this  may  be,  it  is  by  no  means  the  only  interest  in 
this  "exquisite  and  original  poem,"  as  Coleridge  calls  it.  Skelton 
is  a  "merry"  poet.  Written  before  his  mind  was  occupied  with 
the  turmoil  of  the  age,  he  flings  himself  into  whimsicalities 
and  fantasies.  It  becomes  an  intensely  personal  expression. 
Dignity,  reserve,  restraint  are  cast  aside  and  the  poet  and  the 
reader  talk  face  to  face.  And  this  is  the  merit  of  the  chosen  form. 
Dignity,  reserve,  restraint  are  not  characteristics  of  tavern  inter- 
course. But  the  use  of  concrete  detail  is  thus  characteristic.  By 
means  of  it,  the  situation  is  completely  realized,  Joanna  Scroupe 
and  her  sparrow  are  sharply  placed  before  the  reader,  and  for  the 
moment  time  has  lost  its  power. 

Somtyme  he  wolde  gaspe 
Whan  he  sawe  a  waspe; 
A  fly  or  a  gnat. 
He  wolde  flye  at  that; 
And  prytely  he  wold  pant 
Whan  he  saw  an  ant; 
Lord,  how  he  wolde  pry 
After  the  butterfly! 
Lorde,  how  he  wolde  hop 
After  the  gressop! 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  215 

And  whan  I  sayd,  Phyp,  Phyp, 
Than  he  wold  lepe  and  skyp. 
And  take  me  by  the  lyp. 
Alas,  it  wyll  me  slo. 
That  Phillyp  is  gone  me  fro! 

Such  a  passage  as  this,  in  its  concreteness,  strikes  the  keynote  of 
the  whole, — half  humor  and  half  pathos.  The  reader  smiles  at 
the  grotesque  catalogue  and  yet  sympathizes  with  the  little  girl. 
It  is  not  a  great  tragedy,  but  after  all  it  was  her  sparrow.  It  is  not 
a  great  tragedy,  yet  the  woe  of  the  child  will  today  find  response 
from  those  that  love  animals.  Compared  to  it,  Gray's  Ode  on  a 
Favorite  Cat  seems  hard  and  unfeeling.  Both  are  j^vx  d^ esprit, 
but  Skelton's  poem  has  more  of  the  heart.  The  result  of  a 
Renaissance  personality,  familiar  with  the  great  classical  tradition, 
thus  deliberately  writing  in  a  medieval  form  and  with  a  medieval 
point  of  view,  is  to  produce  a  poem  unlike  anything  in  the  pre- 
ceding literature. 

It  has  been  possible  to  show  in  the  cases  of  the  Bouge  of  Court, 
the  satires,  and  Phillip  Sparrow,  from  whence  each  derived  the 
form  and  how  that  form  was  modified.  The  first  derives  from  the 
medieval  English  tradition,  the  others  from  the  medieval  Latin. 
To  the  second  group  belongs  the  Tunnyng  of  Elynour  Rummyng, 
a  poem  rather  notorious  than  known.  ^  Yet  it  persisted  in  litera- 
ture for  two  centuries,^  and  more  than  all  the  rest  of  the  poems 
put  together  explains  the  opprobrium  Skelton's  reputation  re- 
ceived in  the  eighteenth  century.  After  an  introduction  of  ninety 
lines,  describing  Elinor  Rumming,  a  disreputable  aleswife,  seven 
sections  follow  in  which  a  series  of  scenes  in  the  bar  are  presented. 
Not  only  is  the  subject  itself  a  study  of  low  life,  the  treatment, 
also,  is  realistic  to  the  extreme.  As  a  medium  sample  of  the 
descriptive  treatment,  the  following  passage  will  serve. 

With,  Hey,  dogge,  hay, 
Haue  these  hogges  away ! 
With  .Get  me  a  staffe. 
The  awyne  eate  my  draffe! 

*  Roflcoe's  comparison  of  it  with  /  Beoni  of  Lorenzo  d'  Medeci  is  misleading 
except  in  so  far  as  the  subject  matter  is  concerned.  The  Italian  poem  is  a  jocose 
parody  of  the  Divina  Commedia  and  is  in  terza  rima. 

*  It  is  included  in  a  modem  form  in  the  1687  edition  of  Cleveland's  Works. 


216  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Stryke  the  hogges  with  a  clubbe. 

They  haue  dronke  vp  my  swyllynge  tubbe! 

For,  be  there  neuer  so  much  prese. 

These  swyne  go  to  the  hye  dese. 

The  sowe  with  her  pygges; 

The  bore  his  tayle  wrygges. 

His  rumpe  also  he  frygges 

Agaynst  the  hye  benche! 

With,  Fo,  ther  is  a  stenchel 

Gather  vp,  thou  wenche; 

Seest  thou  not  what  is  fall? 

Take  vp  dyrt  and  all. 

And  here  out  of  the  hall: 

God  gyue  it  yll  preuynge, 

Clenly  as  yuell  cheuynge!  * 

This  is  realism.  In  his  effort  to  set  before  us  the  degradation  and 
squalor  of  Elinor's  habitation,  the  poet  shrinks  from  no  detail 
however  disgusting,  from  no  expression  however  coarse.  The 
same  is  true  equally  of  the  characters  both  of  Elinor  herself  and 
her  clientele. 

Another  brought  a  spycke 

Of  a  bacon  flycke; 

Her  tonge  was  verye  quycke. 

But  she  spake  somewhat  thycke: 

Her  fellow  did  stammer  and  stut. 

But  she  was  a  foule  slut. 

For  her  mouth  fomyd 

And  her  bely  groned: 

Jone  sayne  she  had  eaten  a  fyest; 

By  Christ,  sayde  she,  thou  lyest, 

I  haue  as  swete  a  breth 

As  thou,  wyth  shamfull  deth!  * 

In  sharp  hard  lines  disgusting  details  are  thrust  upon  the  dis- 
gusted reader.  If  truth  be  beauty, — and  only  then — is  this  beauti- 
ful, because  it  is  faithful  to  fact.  But  in  its  grotesque  fidelity  it 
is  vital,  with  a  vitaUty  similar  to  that  in  the  pictures  of  Jan  Steen 
and  the  Dutch  school.  In  both  the  reader  is  convinced  that  he 
is  perceiving  life  as  lived  in  the  sixteenth  century.  So,  compared 
to  them,  Guido  Reni's  simpering  madonnas  become  insipid,  and 
Hawes's  allegorical  fantasies  fade  away.    And  however  unpleas- 

1  Lines  16&-86.  *  Lines  335-46. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  217 

ant  may  be  the  impression,  yet  such  an  impression  is  given  that 
it  is  impossible  to  forget. 

Yet  however  unforgettable  the  impression,  its  unpleasantness  is 
obvious  even  to  the  writer.  He  feels,  himself,  that  he  has  gone 
rather  far. 

I  haue  wrytten  to  mytche 
Of  this  mad  mummynge 
Of  Elynour  Rummynge^ 

It  is  with  this  feeling,  perhaps,  that  he  adds  to  the  work  an 
apology. 

Ebria,  squalida,  sordida  foemina,  prodiga  verbis 
Hue  currat,  properet,  veaiat !  Sua  gesta  libellus 
Iste  volutabit:  Paean  sua  plectra  sonando 
Materiam  risus  cantabit  carmine  rauco.* 

It  is  thus  a  curious  mingling  of  morality  and  humor.  On  the  one 
side,  like  Barclay,  he  is  a  medieval  preacher.  He  feels  justified 
in  descending  into  the  depths  that  from  them  he  may  tell  others 
to  keep  out.  On  the  other,  the  reader  has  the  unwilling  conviction 
that  descriptions  written  with  such  gusto  show  a  familiarity  with 
disreputable  resorts  unexpected  in  a  scholar,  and  an  enjoyment 
in  them  undesirable  in  a  Churchman.  Such  a  poem  as  this  has 
done  more  to  justify  the  epithet  "merry"  in  an  equivocal  sense 
than  the  apocryphal  Tales  of  Skelton.  The  coarse  colloquiahsms  of 
Elinor  Rumming,  however  strongly  may  be  urged  the  excuse  of 
morality,  never  would  have  come  from  the  mouth  of  a  "gentle" 
poet.    They  belong  to  the  tavern,  not  to  the  cloister. 

And  his  art,  in  its  most  characteristic  phases,  belongs  to  the 
tavern,  not  to  the  university.  Although  the  impromptu  nature 
of  the  work  belongs  to  the  type,  Skelton's  overflowing  spirits  know 
nothing  of  academic  restraint.  The  poems  as  units  are  without 
form  and  void.  When  his  mind  is  started  upon  one  line  of  thought, 
he  is  unable  to  select;  he  goes  on  and  on.  This  is  the  explanation 
of  those  wearisome  catalogues.  The  funeral  of  Phillip  Sparrow  is 
attended  by  sixty-six  birds.  Joanna  Scroupe's  list  of  reading  em- 
braces all  the  books  the  poet  knew.  But  this  means  that  Skelton 
had  not  learned  the  value  of  emphasis.    Elynour  Rummyng  consists 

»  Lines  619-41.  «  Dyce  i.  p.  115. 


218  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

of  a  series  of  descriptions  of  the  various  customers.  And  his  satires 
are  built  upon  a  number  of  invectives,  in  which  a  concentric  plan 
has  been  seen.  Actually  I  question  whether  there  was  such  a 
"concentric"  conception  in  the  mind  of  the  poet,  whether  on  the 
contrary  the  poems  were  not  written  each  part  by  itself,  without 
much  regard  to  the  relation  of  each  part  to  the  total  work.  At 
least  there  is  no  total  effect. 

Such  considerations  as  these  explain  to  some  extent  the  con- 
temptuous attitude  toward  Skelton's  work  adopted  by  his  con- 
temporaries, since  contemptuous  it  surely  is.  In  an  age  from  which 
so  little  even  of  the  literature  has  survived,  lack  of  comment  con- 
cerning a  work  means  nothing;  the  surprising  feature  about  Skel- 
ton  is  that  so  much  criticism  has  come  down  to  us  and  that  it  is 
all  unfavorable.  The  greatest  personal  force  in  literature  of  his 
age,  he  yet  pleases  no  one.  Churchman  and  courtier,  scholar  and 
humanist,  all  deny  him.  And  these  comprise  the  reading  public 
of  his  day.  This  is  the  situation  that  requires  explanation.  Yet 
that  explanation  is  simple.  To  the  Churchman  and  to  the  court- 
ier he  figured  as  the  great  opponent  of  their  respective  institutions. 
And  however  true  and  however  forceful  abstractly  may  be  either 
Colin  Clout  or  the  Bouge  of  Court,  exactly  in  proportion  as  they 
are  true  and  forceful,  to  the  members  of  neither  organization  could 
they  have  proved  agreeable  reading.  To  the  scholar  his  work 
brought  the  unrestraint  of  the  unruly  side  of  university  life;  to 
the  humanist  he  was  perpetuating  the  Medieval  Latin  forms 
against  which  humanism  was  marshalled  as  enemy  in  chief.  That 
Skelton  did  not  sympathize  with  the  humanists  is  clear  from  his 
work;  that  the  humanists  disliked  Skelton  might  almost  be  posited 
a  priori.  To  them  Skelton's  models,  the  Medieval  Latinists, 
were  simply  ignoramuses.  They  never  tired  of  ridiculing  the  false 
quantities,  and  the  jingling  rimes.^  And  since  to  them  even  the 
propriety  of  writing  in  English  at  all  was  questionable,  the  im- 
propriety of  writing  English  based  upon  such  models  was  be- 
yond a  doubt.  Naturally,  then,  Lily  closes  his  epigram  against 
Skelton  by  saying, 

Et  doctus  fieri  studes  poeta; 
Doctrinam  nee  habes,  nee  es  poeta.  ' 

1  Epistolffl  Obscurorum  Virorum,  passim.  *  Dyce,  i,  p.  xxxviii. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  219 

This  from  the  humanistic  standpoint  was  the  simple  fact.  Ac- 
cording to  the  new  learning,  Skelton  neither  had  the  method, 
nor  was  he  a  poet.  But  unfortunately  for  Skelton,  the  new  learn- 
ing stamped  its  impress  upon  the  Renaissance,  even  to  our  age 
in  so  far  as  we  are  part  of  the  great  movement.  Consequently 
while  the  great  authors  of  antiquity  are  now  read  and  their  man- 
ner studied,  the  Latinists  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  largely  forgotten. 
In  proportion  as  they  were  forgotten,  Skelton  became  transformed 
from  a  powerful  mordant  satirist  to  a  riotous  buffoon.  To  the 
later  Elizabethans  he  was  a  comic  figure.  Puttenham  calls  him 
a  "rude  rayling  rhymer"  belonging  to  the  uncultivated  stage  in 
our  language  before  it  was  polished  by  the  introduction  of  Italian 
models.  Meres  adds  that  "  Skelton  .  .  .  applied  his  wit  to  scurrili- 
ties and  ridiculous  matters,  such  as  among  the  Greeks  were  called 
Pantomimi,  with  us  Buffoons."  Pope's  epithet  "  beastly  "  goes  only 
one  step  farther.  Even  in  1871  Carew  Hazlitt,  in  re-editing  War- 
ton,  thinks  it  a  "strange  notion"  that  Skelton  wrote  English  well! 
Judgments  such  as  these  are  based  upon  a  natural  misconception 
of  the  type  of  work  Skelton  aimed  to  produce.  Instead  of  being 
a  wild,  fantastic,  literary  figure,  actually  he  wrote  in  the  manner 
of  a  past  age. 

In  this  manner  naturally  he  was  not  the  only  writer,  and  his 
seeming  predominance  is  certainly  due,  although  primarily  of 
course  to  the  vigor  of  his  personaUty,  in  some  degree,  to  the  efforts 
of  I.  S.  who  newly  collected  his  works,  for  Marshe's  edition  of 
1568.  As  the  poems  apparently  were  in  most  cases  issued 
separately,  and  as  these  separate  issues  survive  if  at  all  only  in 
a  single  copy,  were  it  not  for  his  efforts,  Skelton  would  be  a  much 
less  imposing  figure.  Owing  to  his  efforts,  to  the  very  bulk  of  the 
work,  Skelton  has  imposed  himself  upon  the  imagination  of  the 
succeeding  generations  as  sui  generis  at  the  expense  of  contempo- 
rary writers,  and  his  reputation  has  swallowed  theirs.  But  if  it  is 
clearly  understood  that  he  is  only  the  most  prominent  of  those 
writers  following  the  precedents  of  the  Medieval  Latin  and  that 
his  work  is,  therefore,  typical  of  a  class,  generalizations  drawn 
from  this  particular  are  sound.  In  such  poems  the  lines  are  short, 
rarely  more  than  octosyllabic;  the  rime-scheme  is  simple,  either 
in  riming  couplets,  triplets,  etc.,  or  in  a  stanza  form  aabccb.  In 
content,  in  contrast  to  the  humanistic  fondness  for  abstractions. 


220  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

they  are  concrete;  in  contrast  with  the  artificiality  of  the  Petrarchan 
convention,  they  are  realistic.  With  this  recognition  of  the  type 
there  ceases  to  be  the  necessity  of  enumerating  the  poems  that  be- 
long to  it.  Of  these  there  are  quite  a  number  that  survive,  and  that 
is  probably  but  a  small  proportion  of  those  that  were  written. 
They  are  usually  anonymous,  they  were  published  separately,  and 
today  they  appear  either  in  single  issues  as  curiosities,  or  in  collec- 
tions like  the  Harleian  Miscellany y  Arber's  anthologies,  Hazlitt's 
Early  Popular  Poetry,  etc.  In  each  case  the  editor  feels  that  he 
has  discovered  a  curious  record  of  the  past,  a  fragment  of  the  "pop- 
ular" poetry  of  the  age.  Of  course  such  poems  are  not  popular 
in  the  sense  that  the  ballad  is  popular.  The  authors  were  highly 
educated  according  to  the  standards  of  the  time,  and  the  con- 
ventions by  which  they  wrote  were  definite.  In  so  far  as  the  con- 
tent is  realistic,  they  approach  satire.  And  their  concreteness 
gives  pictures  of  scenes  in  more  or  less  low  life.  They  thus  form 
a  class  by  themselves. 

Although  this  recognition  of  the  type  saves  us  from  a  weari- 
some catalogue,  or  perhaps  it  is  better  to  say  it  enables  the  student 
to  make  his  own  wearisome  catalogue,  two  poems  demand  attention 
from  their  notoriety.  The  first  is  London  Lickpenny,  long  attrib- 
uted to  Lydgate.  This  attribution  is  due  to  the  fact  that  Stow 
in  his  Survey  of  London  states  that  it  is  by  him,  and  a  late  MS. 
(1600.'')  is  headed  "A  Ballade  compyled  by  Dan  John  Lydgate 
monke  of  Bery  about  —  yeres  agoe,  and  now  newly  ou'sene  and 
amended"!  External  evidence  of  the  late  sixteenth  century  con- 
cerning poems  of  the  fifteenth  may  be  discounted  at  once.  For 
internal  evidence  Miss  Hammond's  conclusion  must  be  accepted. 
"  In  this  matter  of  internal  evidence,  there  is  not  a  shred  to  render 
Lydgate's  authorship  probable  .  .  .  That  a  series  of  reprints,  begin- 
ning with  the  year  1775,  should  have  firmly  connected  this  poem 
with  Lydgate's  name,  is  but  one  of  the  freaks  of  Hterature;  the 
existence  of  such  a  series  of  reprints  does  not,  however,  add  a  jot 
to  the  evidence  for  Lydgate  as  author  of  the  poem. "  ^  With  the 
traditional  author  thus  removed,  the  problem  of  authorship  is 
thrown  back  upon  the  manuscripts.  Unhappily  of  these  there  are 
two,  both  in  poor  condition  and  differing  widely.     The  well-known 

'  Miss  Eleanor  P.  Hammond  {Anglia  20,  404),  has  very  ably  given  the  facts. 
In  the  MS.  a  blank  space  is  left  between  about  and  yerea. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  221 

version  (MS.  Harley  367)  in  a  seven-line  stanza  is  probably  a  recen- 
sion of  an  eight-line  version  (MS.  Harley  542),  and  this  in  all  proba- 
bility is  inaccurate.  Apparently  a  scribe  endeavored  to  modernize 
the  poem  by  reducing  the  "Monk's  Tale"  stanza  into  the  rime- 
royal,  although  keeping  the  octosyllabics.  The  other  alternative 
is  that  both  are  recensions  of  an  older  original,  conceivably  by 
Lydgate.  With  such  lack  of  data  there  is  no  value  in  conjecture 
as  to  authorship.  Nor  is  the  question  of  the  dating  much  clearer. 
The  situation  of  the  hero  of  the  poem,  his  difficulties  with  the  law, 
suggest  the  chaotic  conditions  around  1500, — a  date  partially 
sustained  by  the  mention  of  Flemings  in  the  poem.  And  the  fact 
that  the  stanza  form  belongs  to  the  English  tradition,  although 
in  octosyllabics,  argues  a  transition  period.  The  value  of  the  poem 
lies  in  the  concrete  detail,  the  casual  pictures  of  old  London,  the 
stock  in  the  shops,  the  roguery  in  the  courts,  etc.  As  the  refrain 
is 

But  for  lack  of  money  I  might  not  speed, 

the  satiric  element  is  evident. 

It  is  to  be  noted,  however,  that  this  satiric  element  is  only  in- 
directly satiric,  since  the  satire  consists  merely  in  the  selection  of 
disagreeable  details.  Thus  there  is  no  impetus  of  personal  attack 
as  in  Rede  Me  and  Be  Not  Wrothe  and  Why  Come  Ye  Not  to  Court, 
no  accusations  hurled  against  an  order  as  in  Colin  Clout.  The  aim 
is  rather  a  cynical  exposure  of  the  social  conditions.  But  in  doing 
this  the  author  found  himself  confronted  by  the  necessity  of  mak- 
ing a  list  of  social  evils  with  little  connection  between  them.  Some 
device  was  necessary  to  tie  the  heterogeneous  matter  together.  In 
London  Lickpenny  the  obvious  method  is  adopted  of  writing  in  the 
first  person,  of  having  the  ego  experience  a  series  of  adventures 
and  then  by  binding  the  whole  into  a  semblance  of  unity  by  the 
use  of  the  refrain.  This  is  the  simplest  way.  In  the  Bouge  of  Court 
Skelton  employs  the  elaborate  allegorical  machinery  of  the  Eng- 
lish tradition.^  This  may  have  suggested  to  him  the  advantage 
of  reversing  the  former  conception,  namely,  instead  of  having 
one  person  go  to  many  places,  to  have  many  persons  come  to  one 
place.  By  this  means  he  achieved  what  is  called  in  the  drama 
unity  of  place.    This  is  the  method  of  procedure  in  Elynour  Rum- 

» Cf.,  p.  95-96. 


222  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

myng.  Here  the  stage  is  set  and  the  various  characters  personi- 
fying the  various  evils  of  drunkenness  are  brought  before  the  reader. 
The  great  example  of  this  type  in  European  literature  is  the 
Narrenschiff  of  Sebastian  Brandt.^  In  1494  he  brought  out  in 
dialectic  German  a  long  poem  in  which  the  unity  was  furnished 
by  the  concept  of  putting  his  characters  on  board  a  boat.  This 
was  rewritten  in  Latin  by  Locher  in  1497  and  that  in  turn 
translated  into  English  by  Barclay  in  1508;  although  it  is  possible 
that  Brandt's  work  may  have  been  the  parent  of  all  these  various 
modifications,  his  work,  either  in  the  original  German,  or  the  Latin, 
or  the  English  versions,  differs  from  the  poems  we  have  been  dis- 
cussing in  that  the  dramatic  framework  is  scarcely  used.  In  the 
Narrenschiff y  the  ship  is  merely  the  receptacle  of  the  fools  who  are 
then  described.  But  there  is  no  definite  relation  between  them  and 
the  boat,  and  no  action  between  the  fools  themselves.  Whereas 
in  the  English  type  there  is  distinct  dramatic  action  and  a  sug- 
gestion of  dialogue. 

This  distinction  has  a  concrete  application  in  the  consideration 
of  Coclce  Lorrelles  Bote?  It  survives  in  a  unique  copy  in  the  Gar- 
rick  Collection,  British  Museum.  Unhappily  this  copy  is  muti- 
lated and  probably  badly  printed.  Half  of  it  is  in  the  stanza  form 
aabccb,  but  for  no  apparent  reason  it  drops  into  couplets,  many  of 
which  are  really  monorime.  The  scansion  is  very  irregular,  but 
apparently  the  lines  are  octosyllabic.  Both  forms,  then,  are  the 
normal  Medieval  Latin  measures.  And  the  Medieval  Latin  is 
also  suggested  by  the  repetition  of  words.^  So  far  as  the  form 
alone  is  concerned,  it  quite  clearly  represents  the  Medieval  Latin 
strain. 

As  the  poem  has  come  down  to  us,  the  fragment  begins  a  little 
before  the  middle.^  Cock  Lorell,  the  captain,  is  receiving  recruits. 
These  are  first  characterized. 

1  Cf .  p.  248. 

*This  was  reprinted  for  the  Roxburge  Club  in  1817,  in  an  edition  limited  to 
thirty-five  copies;  an  edition  of  forty  copies  in  1841  with  an  introduction  by  James 
Maidment;  in  1843  for  the  Percy  Society  with  an  introduction  by  Edward  F.  Rim- 
bault;  and  again  in  an  edition  of  one  hundred  and  one  copies  in  1884  with  an  intro- 
duction by  J.  P.  Edmond. 

'  Color  Repeticio;  twelve  successive  lines  begin  with  some. 

*  The  six  A  pages  are  lost,  the  poem  beginning  with  B  i.  The  text  that  I  am  using 
is  that  published  by  J.  and  J.  P.  Edmond  &  Spark,  Aberdeen,  1884. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  223 

The  nexte  that  came  was  a  coryar 

And  a  cobeler  his  brother 

As  ryche  as  a  newe  shorne  shepe 

They  offred  Cocke  a  blechynge  pot 

Other  Jewelles  they  had  not 

Scant  shoes  to  theyr  fete 

The  coryer  dresseth  so  well  his  lether 

That  it  would  drynke  water  in  fayre  weder 

Therfore  he  hath  many  a  crystes  curse 

And  tho  the  cobeler  for  his  cloutynge 

The  people  blesseth  hym  with  euyll  cheuynge 

To  knytte  faste  in  his  purse  * 

Very  quickly,  however,  this  passes  into  a  mere  catalogue. 

There  is  taylers  tauemers  and  drapers 
Potycaryes  ale  brewers  and  bakers 
Mercers  fletchers  and  sporyers 
Boke  prynters  peynters  bowers 
Myllers  carters  and  botyll  makers,  etc.* 

for  eighty-eight  lines.  This  part  closes  with  the  statement,  in 
which  the  weary  reader  is  inclined  to  put  trust,  that 

Of  euery  craft  some  there  was 

Shorte  or  longe  more  or  lasse 

All  these  rehersed  here  before 

In  Cockes  bote  eche  man  had  an  ore.* 

They  then  joyously  cruise  about  London  and,  when  night  comes, 
extend  their  voyage  over  the  whole  of  England.  It  is  evidently 
in  the  nature  of  a  vision,  because  suddenly  an  ego  appears, 

The  bote  swayne  blewe  his  whystell  full  shryll 
And  I  wente  homwarde  to  mowe  shame  stere.* 

Very  curiously  on  his  return  he  meets  with  a  company  of  persons 
of  both  sexes  in  the  Church  who  are  vainly  seeking  Cock  Lorell! 
And  the  poem  ends  with  a  pious  ejaculation. 

Although  undated,  since  it  was  printed  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde 
it  must  have  been  done  before  1534  when  he  died.  A  more 
definite  indication  of  the  dating  is  the  fact  that  the  five  illustra- 

»  Page  «.  »  Page  10.  »  Page  14.  «  Page  17. 


224  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

tions  are  free  imitations  of  the  originals  in  the  Narrenschiff}  But 
as  Barclay's  adaptation  of  The  Ship  of  Fools  was  printed  by  Pynson 
in  1509,  it  scarcely  seems  probable  that  Wynkyn  de  Worde  would 
have  thus  copied  his  rival.  It  is  more  likely  that  for  his  English 
poem  he  copied  illustrations  from  the  Latin  edition  of  Locher. 
The  dating  of  the  poem,  then,  would  be  around  1500.  But  if  this 
be  true,  the  similarity  between  Cock  LorelVs  Bote  and  the  Narren- 
schiff  becomes  very  slight.  Professor  Herford  thinks  that  the 
first  was  suggested  by  the  chapter  Das  schluraffen  schiff  of  the 
latter  and  quotes  the  lines  from  Barclay  to  show  the  resemblance.^ 

Here  shall  Jacke  charde,  my  brother  Robyn  hyll 
With  Myllers  and  bakers  that  weyght  and  mesure;  hate 
All  stelynge  taylere:  as  soper;  and  Manshyll 
Receyve  theyr  rowme. 

But  these  lines  are  in  neither  the  German  nor  the  Latin!  Nor 
has  the  chapter,  a  curious  Odyssey  in  classic  seas,  much  resem- 
blance to  the  vividly  local  voyage  of  Cock  Lorell.  Whatever 
similarity  may  be  found  in  such  passages,  then,  is  probably  due 
rather  to  the  omnivorous  Barclay  than  to  the  anonymous  author 
of  Cock  LorelVs  Bote. 

But  the  moment  this  conception  that  Cock  LorelVs  Bote  is  an 
EngUsh  modification  of  a  foreign  idea  is  abandoned,  the  poem  ap- 
pears as  the  Medieval  Latin  type  and  its  characteristics  become  nor- 
mal. There  is  nothing  surprising  in  its  incoherence,  its  cataloguing, 
or  its  concreteness.  They  all  belong  to  the  type*  Nor  when  judged 
in  comparison  with  others  of  the  same  sort  does  it  seem  noteworthy. 
Surely  it  lacks  the  swing  of  London  Lickpenny,  and  the  author 
has  not  a  tithe  of  the  power  of  Skelton.    Even  the  last  character- 

^  Herford,  Literary  Relations  op.  cit.,  342.  "All  the  five  woodcuts  in  the  Cock 
LorelVs  Bote  are  free  imitations  of  originals  in  the  Skip  of  Fools.  None  stand  in  very 
obvious  relation  to  the  text.  That  at  B  ii.,  (a  Fool,  with  outstretched  tongue, 
standing  before  a  tree  up  which  a  magpie  is  ascending  to  her  nest)  is  from  the  chap- 
ter Of  to  much  speaking  or  babling.  That  at  B  iii.,  (the  hunter  whose  dogs  are  divided 
between  the  attractions  of  two  hares  running  in  opposite  directions)  is  taken  from 
the  illustration  to  the  chapter  Of  him  that  together  ivould  serve  two  masters.  Those 
at  B.v.  and  C  ii,  are  identical,  and  are  freely  adapted  from  the  Universal  Skip 
(Schluraffensckiff).  That  on  C  iii,  (four  Fools  playing  cards  round  a  table)  is  also 
freely  adapted  from  the  chapter  on  Card  players  and  dyaers."  I  quote  Professor 
Herford's  note  as  I  have  never  seen  the  original. 

» Ibid,  page  347. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  225 

istic,  the  use  of  concrete  detail,  has  been  overstressed.  There  is, 
of  course,  an  antiquarian  interest  in  allusions  to  old  London. 

There  came  suche  a  winde  fro  wynchester 

That  blewe  these  women  ouer  the  ryuer 

In  wherye  as  I  wyll  you  tell 

Some  at  saynt  Kateryns  stroke  a  grounde 

And  many  in  holbome  were  founde 

Some  at  saynt  Gyles  I  trowe 

Also  in  aue  maria  aly  and  at  westmenster 

And  some  in  shordyche  drewe  theder 

With  grete  lamentacyon.    [Page  8.] 

Naturally  in  comparison  with  the  humanistic  moralizations  of 
Barclay,  this  seems  startling.  In  comparison,  however,  with  the 
vividness  of  Elynour  Rummyng  it  is  quite  simple.  The  reader 
finds  also  the  list  of  fools  after  Lydgate,  the  pre-Reformation 
joking  on  religious  immorality,  and  the  characteristic  indirect 
satire.  It  is  in  fact  so  definite  a  specimen  of  the  type  that,  were 
it  not  for  the  notoriety  it  has  obtained  from  the  mis-classification, 
the  amount  of  space  here  given  to  the  discussion  could  not  be 
justified.^  Its  conformity  to  the  type  seems  to  imply  an  early 
dating. 

At  least,  in  poems  of  the  middle  of  Henry's  reign  the  reader  is 
conscious  of  a  mingling  of  elements.  The  Hye  Way  to  the  Spitted 
Hous,  compiled  and  printed  by  Robert  Copland,  by  its  allusion 
to  the  Act  of  22nd  Henry  Eighth  ^  and  its  mention  of  false  popery  ' 
must  have  been  written  in  1535.  Here  then  we  shall  find  the  late 
development  of  this  type.  It  opens  with  twelve  stanzas  of  rime- 
royal,  the  body  of  it  is  in  the  heroic  couplet,  and  it  closes  with  the 

^  A  question,  quite  apart  from  the  literary  one,  arises  concerning  the  historicity 
of  Cock  Lorell.  Samuel  Rowlands  in  1610  states  that  he  was  a  tinker  and  lived 
until  the  year  1533.  Unhappily,  aside  from  the  date,  he  seems  to  have  gathered 
his  information  from  a  tract  printed  by  John  Awdely  in  1566,  in  which  Cock  Lorell 
is  a  character.  I  can  find  no  historical  allusion  to  such  a  person,  and  the  name. 
Chief  Knave,  is  a  priori,  against  such  historicity.  On  the  other  hand  Cock  Lorell 
is  alluded  to  by  Feylde,  Controversy  between  a  Lover  and  a  Jay  (ante  1530),  in  Hye 
Way  to  the  Spyttel  Uoua  (1535?),  Doctor  Double  Ale  (1545?),  Heywood,  Proverbs 
(1556),  Gascoigne,  Adventures  of  Master  F.  I.  (1577),  and  by  Ben  Johnson,  Gypsies 
Metamorphosed.  As  this  wealth  of  allusion  through  the  century  cannot  be  explained 
either  from  the  historical  standpoint  or  from  the  popularity  of  the  particular  poem, 
we  must  be  dealing  here  with  a  lost  proverb. 

»  V.  876.  »  V.  551. 


226  EARLY   TUDOR  POETRY 

Lydgatean  apology.  In  its  cataloguing  it  suggests  the  Order  of 
Fools.  So  far  it  follows  the  lines  of  the  English  tradition.  Yet 
instead  of  the  expected  allegory,  or  the  conflidus,  there  is  a 
humanistic  dialogue.  But  instead  of  the  humanistic  point  of  view, 
there  follows  a  realistic  description  of  vagabondage  in  London. 
The  poem  proper  opens  with  the  conventional  astronomical  be- 
ginning, to  change  suddenly  into  the  concrete.* 

But  playnly  to  say,  even  as  the  tyme  was. 

About  a  fourtenyght  after  Halowmas, 
I  chaunced  to  come  by  a  certayn  spyttell. 

Where  I  thought  best  to  tary  a  lyttell. 

And  vnder  the  porche  for  to  take  socour. 

To  abyde  the  passyng  of  a  stormy  shour; 

For  it  had  snowen,  and  f rosen  very  strong 

With  great  ysesycles  on  the  cues  long. 
The  sharp  north  wynd  hurled  bytterly. 

And  with  black  cloudes  darked  was  the  sky. 
Lyke  as,  in  wenter,  some  days  be  naturall 

With  frost,  and  rayne,  and  stormes  ouer  all. 

While  standing  there  he  enters  into  conversation  with  the  porter 
of  the  hospital  in  regard  to  the  type  of  person  aided  by  it.  This 
hospital  refuses  the  professional  beggar,  the  false  soldier,  the  false 
priest,  and  the  false  student  of  medicine.  Incidentally  these  are 
all  characterized  and  their  tricks  exposed.^  This  occupies  five 
hundred  and  sixty-two  lines.   Here  comes  a  distinct  break. 

Tell  me  shortly  of  all  folke  in  generall. 
That  come  the  hye  way  to  the  hospytall. 

Then  follows  roughly  five  hundred  lines  more  of  condensed 
cataloguing  of  the  various  evil  doers.  Suggesting  the  scholastic 
tradition,  Latin  appears  in  the  verse,  but  instead  of  the  accentual 
Medieval  Latin  it  consists  of  Biblical  quotations,  or  humanistic 
verse.  The  power  of  the  poem  lies  in  its  concrete  detail.  The 
professional  beggars  have  their  haunts  ^  where 

^  I  am  using  the  text  in  Hazlitt's  Early  Popular  Poetry,  1866,  IV,  26. 

*  These  characterizations  may  be  compared  with  those  of  the  beggar,  the  soldier 
and  the  priest  in  Mother  Hubberd's  Tale. 

*  It  will  be  remembered  that  two  hundred  years  later  the  unsavory  crowning  of 
Shadwell  as  Mac  Flecknoe  took  place  in  the  Barbican. 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  287 

Close  to  the  Walls  which  fair  Augusta  bind, 
(The  fair  Augusta  much  to  fears  inclin'd) 
An  ancient  fabrick  raised  t'inform  the  sight. 
There  stood  of  yore,  and  Barbican  it  hight: 

Mac  Flecknoe,  64-7. 

In  the  Berbycan  and  in  Tummyll  strete. 
In  Houndesdyche  and  behynd  the  Flete.  .  .^ 

This  particularization  may  be  illustrated  in  another  way,  in  the 
long  account  of  the  fraud  perpetrated  by  the  rogue  physician. 
In  company  with  his  servant  he  arrives  at  a  farm  house.  As  he 
feigns  that  he  cannot  speak  English, 

With,  me  non  spek  Englys  by  my  fayt: 
My  seniaunt  spek  you  what  me  sayt,* 

his  servant  conducts  the  conversation,  all  of  which  tends  to  the 
glorification  of  his  master's  skill.  While  they  talk,  the  rogue  dis- 
covers a  "postum"  in  the  stomach  of  the  child.  He  will  cure  it, 
but  he  will  take  no  pay.  And  these  two  depart.  The  trap  being 
thus  baited,  the  third  member  of  the  gang  arrives  the  next  day, 
makes  the  same  diagnosis,  praises  the  "doctor"  in  whose  favor 
in  any  case  the  family  is  now  prejudiced  because  he  took  no  money, 
and  the  gang  live  upon  the  family  for  a  fortnight.  Each  step  in 
the  process  thus  outlined  is  developed  with  definite  detail.  We 
are  told  what  the  hostess  said,  the  servant  said,  the  doctor  said. 
The  last  apparently  speaks  French  with  Italian  reminiscences. 
For  example, 

Dys  infant  rumpre  vng  grand  pastum,' 

Viginti  solidi  pour  fournir  vostre  coffre,* 

Non,  poynt  d'argent,  sayth  he,  pardeu,  ie  non  cure.* 

A  description  such  as  this  of  the  "clewners"  ^  gives  the  difference 

» Vv.  £41-2. 
«  Vv.  439-40. 
»  V.  467. 

*  V.  482. 
»V.  484. 

•  This  variety  of  rogue  is  not  listed  in  Ilarman's  Caveat  or  Warning  for  Common 
Curriiori,  1373. 


228  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

between  the  scholastic  tradition  and  the  humanistic  attitude. 
Whereas  humanism  tended  to  stress  generalizations  and  abstrac- 
tions, scholasticism  tended  to  stress  the  individual.  That  is  the 
change  made  by  Locher  in  re-writing  the  scholastic  Narrenschiff, 
and  when  Barclay  in  accordance  with  his  scholastic  training  in- 
troduced the  English  specific  detail,  he  produced  quite  uncon- 
sciously the  effect  of  the  original  German.  Consequently  between 
the  Ship  of  Fools  and  the  Eye  Way  there  is  a  puzzling  resemblance, 
the  difference  consisting  only  in  the  amoimt  of  stress.  In  a 
humanistic  original  Barclay  interpolates  scholastic  detail;  to  a 
scholastic  treatment  Copland  adds  the  humanist's  love  for  gen- 
eralizations. 

If  the  resemblance  of  the  first  half  of  the  Rye  Way  is  to  the 
Ship  of  Fools,  the  second  half  suggests  Cock  Lorelles  Bote.  Instead 
of  a  general  crowd  of  knaves,  "The  thyrde  persone  of  Englande, "  ^ 
coming  to  the  boat,  an  unestimated,  but  innumerable,  crowd  of 
fools  seek  refuge  in  the  hospital.  The  beneficiaries  are  more 
numerous  than  the  guests  of  Cock  Lorell,  because  the  latter  are 
expressly  included.^  In  any  case,  the  number  would  be  greater, 
since  all  are  reckoned  that  may  come  to  this  sad  end, — vicious 
priests,  and  clerks,  bailiffs,  stewards,  provision-buyers,  renters, 
paymasters,  creditors,  negligent  receivers,  lazy  farmers,  merchants 
of  poor  judgment,  thriftless  craftsmen,  penniless  courtiers,  knaves, 
tavemers,  etc.,  etc.,  even  to  the  husband  and  wife  that  quarrel. 
Thus,  while  the  Bote  enumerates  all  the  rogues  of  England,  the 
Hye  Way  lists  also  all  the  unfortunate.  By  this  method  the  author 
gives  a  vivid  and  sinister  picture  of  social  conditions  during  the 
middle  of  Henry's  reign. 

This  vivid  but  sinister  view  of  society  may  be  said  to  be  both  the 
literary  contribution  and  the  limitation  of  this  type.  On  the  one 
side  it  may  be  argued  that  there  is  a  very  real  value  in  having  thus 
thrust  upon  the  reader  the  fact  that  life  in  those  days  was  not  all 
beer  and  skittles.  With  the  sporadic  popularity  of  the  swash- 
buckler novel,  with  its  romantic  love  and  clashing  sword-play,  the 

*  Cocke  Lorelles  Bote  .  .  .  fifth  line  from  the  end. 

*  The  Hye  Way,  1058-60. 

Copland.  Come  ony  maryners  hyther  of  Cok  Lorels  bote? 
Porter.  Euery  day  they  be  alway  a  flote: 

We  must  them  receyue,  and  gyue  them  costes  fre.  .  . 


THE  SCHOLASTIC  TRADITION  229 

realization  that  life  then  was  real  and,  to  the  majority,  somber, 
justifies  the  existence  of  such  works.  Its  Umitation  is  equally 
obvious.  While  the  reader  feels  convinced  that  Elinor  Rumming 
existed,  and  that  frauds  and  cheats  abounded,  it  does  not  make  for 
pleasant  reading.  Necessarily  there  is,  and  can  be,  no  elevation. 
So  he  puts  down  the  work  with  the  feeling  that  it  is  not  worth 
the  effort,  that  it  is  too  late  to  reform,  and  that  ignorance 
is  bliss.  There  is  enough  that  is  sordid  around  us  without  the 
accumulation  of  past  centuries.  Such  poems,  not  only  in  form  but 
even  in  content,  have  been  relegated  to  the  special  student.  For 
since  each  age  has  its  own  problems  and  is  equally  careless  of  the 
sufferings  of  the  past,  so  this  type  gradually  passed  away  without 
having  a  definite  effect  upon  the  following  literatures.  Skelton's 
saturnine  personality  alone  survived  the  wreck,  although  in  a 
distorted  shape,  while  kindly  obUvion  has  overtaken  the  others 
of  the  school. 


CHAPTER  IV 

HUMANISM 

At  the  same  time  that  some  men  of  the  Renaissance  were  try- 
ing to  create  a  new  Hterature  by  reviving  and  modifying  old  medi- 
eval forms  of  verse,  others  turned  to  foreign  literatures  in  search 
of  models.  This  is  what  was  to  be  expected.  In  literature  there 
is  no  protection  for  the  native  product;  that  must  compete  with 
foreign  importation  and  is  often  driven  out.  Such  a  catastrophe 
had  fallen  upon  the  alliterative  verse  forms  of  Eariy  English  poetry ; 
in  the  fourteenth  century  they  had  succumbed  before  continental 
verse-forms,  which,  in  turn,  had  become  naturalized,  and  become 
English  just  as  the  Norman  conquerors  had  become  English,  and 
the  assimilation  was  complete.  The  contest  between  the  estab- 
lished poetry  and  the  foreign,  although  continuous,  is  rarely  so 
apparent  as  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VII  and  that  of  his  son.  Owing 
to  the  break  in  literary  continuity,  due  to  the  wars  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  not  only  were  the  traditional  poetic  forms  obsolete,  but 
even  the  very  language  in  which  they  were  written,  had  changed. 
When  the  country  was  again  in  a  sufficiently  peaceful  condition 
to  permit  of  much  writing,  the  question  was  put  to  each  author 
what  forms  to  use.  Some  revived  the  medieval  tradition;  ^  others 
experimented  in  adapting  those  from  the  Medieval  Latin;  ^  still 
others  turned  to  classical  Latin  for  their  models.  And  as  the  classi- 
cal Latin  writers  were  pagan,  rather  than  Christian,  and  dealt  with 
mundane  aflPairs  rather  than  with  "divine"  theology,  their  imi- 
tators and  followers  were  called  humanists. 

Humanism  may  be  defined  as  a  revival  of  interest  in  classical 
life  and  in  classical  literature.  Such  an  interest  may  manifest  itself 
in  various  ways.  Some  humanists  advocated  the  substitution  of 
Latin  for  the  vernacular  as  a  hteraiy  medium.  Others  felt  that 
English  written  according  to  classical  principles  would  be  the  ideal 
condition.  Still  others  were  satisfied  with  assimilating  the  classical 
attitude  toward  life.  And  there  were  some  writers  whose  human- 
1  Chapter  2.  *  Chapter  3. 

280 


HUMANISM  281 

ism  went  little  farther  than  the  use  of  names  and  allusions  drawn 
from  classical  stories. 

It  is  not  possible  to  date  accurately  the  beginning  of  the 
movement.  The  statement  is  not  true  that  Latin  was  not  read 
during  the  Middle  Ages.  So  far  as  the  language  is  concerned,  it 
was  always  known,  because  it  was  the  language  employed  in  the 
services  of  the  Church.  Consequently  as  every  clerk  must  know 
Latin,  and  as  the  greater  proportion  of  the  educated  was  to  be  foimd 
among  the  Clergy,  the  use  of  Latin  in  a  book  not  only  did  not 
hinder  its  circulation,  but  it  was  actually  an  aid,  since  it  freed  the 
thought  from  the  limitations  of  the  vernacular.  Consequently, 
from  the  very  earliest  times  and  aside  from  any  merely  ecclesiasti- 
cal use,  books  were  written  in  England  and  by  Englishmen  in  the 
Latin  language. 

Yet  during  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  there  was  a 
shifting  of  emphasis  from  the  spiritual  to  the  literary  interest  in 
the  classics.  It  is  one  thing  to  read  Ovid  as  a  possible  precursor 
of  Christianity,  and  quite  another  to  read  him  as  an  erotic  poet. 
This  change  is  shown  by  contrasting  the  proportion  of  theology 
and  literature  in  such  a  list  as  that  of  the  library  of  Oriel 
College  in  1379,  with  the  books  sold  in  Oxford  by  John  Dome  in 
1520.  The  first  lists  almost  exclusively  works  dealing  with  theo- 
logy; the  second  has  a  large  proportion  of  literature.  In  1379  the 
library  of  Oriel  had  but  one  hundred  and  twenty  books.  These 
were  the  result  of  painful  hours  of  weary  scribes.  They  were 
written,  page  after  page,  in  longhand,  and  the  initials  were  illumi- 
nated and  inclosed  minatures  of  the  Virgin  and  the  saints.  Each 
volume  bore  witness  to  an  age  when  time  was  of  little  value  and 
when  readers  were  few  but  earnest.  Thus  the  dream  of  the  Clerk 
of  Oxenford  in  Chaucer's  Prologue  is  to  have 

Twenty  bokes,  clad  in  blak  or  reed. 
Of  Aristotle  and  his  philosophye. 

When  one  has  the  instincts  of  a  scholar  and  but  twenty  books,  it 
follows  that  those  books  are  studied  carefully.  It  follows  also  that 
one  is  quite  careful  in  choosing  them.  And  Aristotle  was  regarded 
as  the  best  mental  discipline  to  prepare  one  for  studying  theology. 
But  by  1520  with  the  great  decrease  in  price  came  an  increase  in 
the  number  of  books  and  a  corresponding  decrease  in  the  im- 


232  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

portance  of  any  one  book.  Thus  if  one  had  to  choose  between 
the  Bible  and  Shakespeare,  presumably  we  should  all  choose  the 
Bible;  if,  however,  we  might  have  both,  the  result  would  be  an 
extension  of  Shakepeare's  influence.  Automatically,  without 
considering  other  factors,  the  invention  of  printing  worked  in 
favor  of  literature. 

But  while  the  invention  of  printing  with  movable  type  accele- 
rated the  development  of  the  humanistic  impulse  by  making  the 
classical  authors  accessible,  the  actual  transition  was  by  no  means 
instantaneous,  nor  is  it  so  marked  as  the  name,  re-birth,  seems  to 
imply.  Naturally,  with  Latin  as  the  universal  medium  of  com- 
munication during  the  Middle  Ages,  there  was  no  time  when  the 
classical  authors  were  not  read  and  their  verse-forms  studied.  Con- 
sequently in  medieval  authors,  such  as  John  of  Salsbury,  allusions 
to  them  are  frequent.  And  John  of  Garlandia  appends  a  series 
of  hymns  in  the  meters  of  the  Odes  of  Horace  to  his  Art  of  Riming. 
Again  in  the  medieval  treatises  can  be  found  careful  explanations 
of  the  quantitative  foot.  It  must  be  remembered  that,  although  it 
was  the  Medieval  Latin  that  was  normal,  classical  Latin  was 
not  forgotten. 

The  best  illustration  of  this  condition  is  to  be  found  in  the  work 
of  Skelton.  He  had  received  his  training  in  the  medieval  manner 
at  three  universities,  and  his  reputation  was  that  of  one  of  the 
learned  men  of  his  age.  It  is  in  this  guise  that  he  ap|>ears  in  the 
first  notice  we  have  of  him,  namely  that  by  Caxton.  But  that 
the  poet  himself  was  conscious  of  these  attainments  is  equally 
certain.  Latin  tags,  Latin  allusions,  even  Latin  reminiscences 
occur  at  frequent  intervals.  In  his  satire  Juvenal  and  Martial 
are  his  shield  and  his  buckler.  Over  and  over  again  he  insists  that 
their  plain  speaking  justifies  his  plain  speaking.  And  it  may  be 
remarked  in  passing  that  the  practice  of  Martial  would  serve  as  a 
precedent  for  any  amount  of  foul  personalities !  In  Skelton's  list 
of  authors,  the  great  majority  belong  to  classical  literature.  Nor 
did  he  refrain  from  versifying  in  imitation  of  classical  Latin  models. 
In  1512,  according  to  the  date  given  in  the  title  of  the  poem,  he 
wrote  twenty -four  lines  of  elegiacs  celebrating  the  virtues  of  the 
late  king.  As  he  quaintly  remarks,  they  were  written  at  the  request 
of  Islip,  Abbot  of  Westminster;  perhaps  it  is  hypercritical,  then, 
to  object  that  they  show  no  personal  feeling.    Like  so  much  of 


HUMANISM  233 

humanistic  verse,  they  seem  artificial.  The  same  classical  tendency 
is  apparent  when  in  his  own  person  he  apostrophizes  his  work: 

Ite,  Britannorum  lux  O  radiosa,  Britannum 
Carmina  nostra  pium  vestrum  celebrate  Catullum! 

Dicite,  Skeltonis  vester  Adonis  erat; 

Dicite,  Skeltonis  vester  Homerus  erat. 
Barbara  cum  Latio  pariter  jam  currite  versu; 
Et  licet  est  verbo  pars  maxima  texta  Britanno, 

Non  magis  incompta  nostra  Thalia  patet. 

Est  magis  inculta  nee  mea  Calliope. 
Nee  vos  poeniteat  livoris  tela  subire. 
Nee  vos  poeniteat  rabiem  tolerare  caninam. 
Nam  Maro  dissimiles  non  tulit  ille  minas, 

Inunimis  nee  enim  Musa  Nasonis  erat.* 

Naturally,  therefore,  he  practiced  the  gentle  art  of  Latin  verse. 
To  those  pieces  that  have  come  down  to  us,  conventional  elegies 
on  court  subjects,  Warton  gives  the  epithet  "elegant."  More  to 
our  purpose,  however,  is  the  fact  that  he  felt  sufficiently  at  home 
in  the  language  to  write  jocosely  and  easily  poems  which  show  a 
mastery  of  the  medium. 

This  side  of  his  work  deserves  careful  consideration  because 
the  originality  and  vigor  of  his  highly  individual  manner  in  his 
English  poems  tends  to  cause  it  to  be  ignored.  It  must  be  strongly 
stated  that  Caxton's  enthusiasm  was  for  Skelton,  the  Latinist. 
In  the  same  way,  there  is  nothing  in  Whitington's  eulogy  that 
suggests  that  Skelton  wrote  in  English.  However  apt  we  may 
think  the  following  criticism  as  applied  to  the  Latin  verses,  it 
is  comically  inappropriate  if  it  is  intended  to  characterize  the 
intentionally  rough-and-tumble  effect  of  the  English.^ 

Rhetoricum  sermo  riguo  fecundior  horto, 

Pulchrior  est  multo  puniceisque  rosis, 
Unda  limpidior,  Parioque  politior  albo, 

Splendidior  vitro,  candidiorque  nive, 
Mitior  Alcinois  pomis,  fragrantior  ipso 

Thureque  Pantheo,  gratior  et  violis  .  .  .  etc. 

And  of  course  it  was  because  of  this  reputation  as  a  Latinist  that 
he  received  the  greatest  honor  of  his  life,  the  appointment  as  tutor 

'  OarlaruU  of  Laurell.    Lines  1521-32.  «  Dyce,  1,  zvi-xix. 


234  «  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

to  Prince  Henry,  later  Henry  VIII.  Together  with  the  poet 
laureate-ship,  this  is  his  great  rebuttal  against  Garnesche. 

The  honor  of  Englond  I  lemyd  to  sfjelle. 
In  dygnyte  roialle  that  doth  excelle: 
Note  and  marke  wyl  thys  parcele; 
I  yaue  hym  drynke  of  the  sugryd  welle 
Of  EUconys  waters  crystallyne, 
Aqueintyng  hym  with  the  Musys  nyne. 
Yt  commyth  the  wele  me  to  remorde. 
That  creaunser  was  to  thy  sofre(yne)  lorde: 
It  plesyth  that  noble  prince  roialle 
Me  as  hys  master  for  to  calle 
In  hys  lemyng  primordialle.* 

That  this  was  the  fact,  we  have  unexpectedly  the  testimony  of 
Erasmus.  His  visit  to  the  children  of  Henry  VII  is  too  well  known 
to  need  comment.  In  the  preface  to  the  poem,  De  Laudibus 
Britannice,  which  he  wrote  on  his  return  home,  occurs  the  state- 
ment: "domi  haberes  Skeltonum,  unum  Britannicarum  literarum 
lumen  et  decus,"  and  in  the  poem  itself  the  verse,  » 

Monstrante  fonteis  vate  Skeltono  sacros. 

That  here  Erasmus  with  his  limited  knowledge  of  English  was 
referring  to  Skelton's  English  poems, — and  this  position  is  some- 
times taken, — is  inconceivable.  There  is  no  patronizing  attitude. 
Erasmus  was  a  poor  foreign  scholar,  with  his  reputation  yet  to 
make,  who  was  then  looking  for  a  position  and  a  patron.  Skelton 
was  a  famous  scholar,  tutor  to  a  prince.  Under  these  circumstances 
there  is  no  exaggeration  in  the  statement.  Nor  is  there  any  avoid- 
ing the  inference  that  it  was  the  Latinity  of  Skelton  that  gave  him 
his  early  reputation. 

But  with  all  this,  it  yet  remains  that  Skelton  not  only  was  not  a 
humanist,  but  he  was  a  bitter  opponent  of  humanism  and  the  group 
in  England  supporting  it.  The  touchstone  differentiating  the  two 
groups  is  to  be  found  in  the  attitude  taken  toward  Greek.  When 
the  "Greeks"  vanquished  the  "Trojans"  at  Oxford,  humanism 
had  arrived.  The  beginning  of  the  movement,  of  which  this  was 
an  incident,  may  be  localized  in  Italy  and  personified  by  Petrarch. 
The  Italian  language  is  a  natural  outgrowth  of  the  Latin;  Italy 

1  Dyce,  i,  p.  129. 


HUMANISM  285 

was  the  home  of  the  Latin  Church;  and  wherever  you  go  in  Italy 
the  mind  is  recalled  to  the  greatness  of  Rome  by  the  greatness  of 
the  surviving  monuments.  Arenas,  gateways,  arches,  temples,  not 
only  in  the  City  of  Rome  but  throughout  the  peninsula,  memorial- 
ized the  time  when  Italy  was  Rome  and  Rome  was  the  world. 
Even  through  the  Middle  Ages  the  spirit  of  the  past  and  reverence 
for  Vergil  as  the  poet  of  that  past  survived,  although  in  an  imag- 
inative and  grotesque  form.^  It  is  Vergil  that  leads  Dante  on  his 
pilgrimage,  and  it  is  Vergil  that  Petrarch  took  as  his  model.  Pe- 
trarch stands  at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  His  allegorization  of 
the  Mneid  is  medieval;  his  enthusiasm  for  the  artist  Vergil  is 
prophetic  of  the  coming  age. 

When  Petrarch,  as  an  old  man,  began  the  study  of  Greek,  the 
new  age  had  begun.  Greek  thought  and  Greek  literature,  lost  in 
western  Europe,  had  been  preserved  by  the  Byzantine  scholars. 
But  as  the  Greek  Church  declined  and  the  Greek  Empire  was  un- 
able to  withstand  the  attacks  of  the  Turks,  the  old  causes  of 
rivalry,  in  a  measure,  disappeared,  and  little  by  little  scholars 
with  a  knowledge  of  Greek  penetrated  western  Europe.  Italy 
from  its  geographical  situation  was  first  affected.  Greek  was 
welcomed  with  avidity.  It  was  not  that  here  and  there  an  isolated 
scholar,  a  pedantic  bookworm,  turned  to  it;  the  whole  educated 
class  felt  its  fascination.  The  situation  was  paradoxical  and  un- 
paralleled. Not  only  the  gentle  aesthete  but  the  hardened  man  of 
action  was  equally  enthusiastic.^ 

The  situation  is  epitomized  in  the  story  of  the  finding  of  the  em- 
balmed body  of  Julia,  a  Roman  woman.  According  to  the  tale, 
the  enthusiasm  for  her  more  than  modern  beauty,  the  extreme 
laudation  that  did  not  hesitate  to  institute  invidious  comparisons 
between  it  and  that  of  the  saints  of  the  Church,  and  finally  the 
quiet  suppression  of  the  body  by  the  fearful  Pope,  all  typify  in 
one  dramatic  episode  the  new  age. 

It  is  not  necessary  here  to  discuss  humanism  in  Italy.  The 
substitution  of  the  pagan  for  tlie  Christian  ideal  of  life,  of  Plato 
for  Aristotle  in  the  domain  of  tliought;  the  great  stimulus  that 
came  from  the  contact  for  the  first  time  with  the  great  Greek 
literature, — all  this  has  been  done  again  and  again.    It  is  suflS- 

*  See  Comparetti,  Vergil  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

*  J.  A.  Symoodx,  Renaittance  in  Italy,  The  Age  of  Deepote,  pp.  134-1S5. 


236  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

cient  here,  if  it  be  recognized  that  the  effect  was  to  make  of  Italy 
a  center  of  world  culture.  As  the  characteristic  medieval  in- 
stitution of  feudalism  had  never  there  obtained  a  firm  foothold, 
so  that  there  was  less  to  destroy,  plus  the  advantage  of  nearness 
to  Constantinople,  in  the  progress  of  the  new  spirit  Italy  was 
nearly  a  hundred  years  in  advance  of  the  northern  nations.  The 
petty  desp)ot  of  a  petty  Italian  town,  without  morals  and  stained 
with  crime,  arrogated  to  himself  claims  of  equality  with  the  kings 
of  the  untutored  barbarians, — and  had  his  claims  allowed.  Are- 
tino,  an  unscrupulously  clever  blackguard,  is  decorated  with  a 
golden  chain  by  Francis  of  France,  and  dedicates  a  volume  of  his 
letters  to  Henry  of  England.  To  the  modern  reader,  used  to  the 
dominance  of  England,  it  is  all  inexplicable.  He  will  never  under- 
stand the  sixteenth  century  until  he  makes  a  mental  reversal;  it 
is  Italy,  not  England,  that  is  dominant  in  the  first  half  of  the  six- 
teenth century. 

That  England  should  have  lagged  so  far  behind  was  her  mis- 
fortune, not  her  fault.  There  is  the  dawning  of  the  Renaissance 
in  Chaucer.  The  lovely  tradition  that  relates  the  meeting  between 
him  and  Petrarch, — a,  tradition  that,  if  it  be  not  true,  we  all  feel 
ought  to  be  true, — represents  dramatically  the  entrance  of  the 
new  age  into  England.  In  the  next  generation  the  character  of 
the  "  Good "  Duke  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  in  its  general 
outlines  recalls  the  Italian  prince.  The  library  given  by  him  to 
Baliol,  in  contrast  with  the  library  of  Oriel,  has  a  surprising  per- 
centage of  mere  literature.  Unhappily  the  development  to  be  ex- 
pected from  such  a  gift  was  retarded  by  the  Wars  of  the  Roses.  A 
state  of  unrest  continued  until  the  establishment  of  Henry  Tudor. 
Then  with  the  settled  condition  of  the  country,  there  grew  up  more 
and  more  a  band  of  scholars  studying  the  Latin,  and  especially 
the  Greek.  Perhaps  due  directly  to  the  gift  of  Duke  Humphrey 
the  first  humanistic  studies  centered  at  Oxford.  Grocyn,  Linacre, 
Colet,  Lily,  Sir  Thomas  More,  formed  a  group,  the  like  of  which 
could  scarcely  be  found  in  any  one  place  in  Europe,  and  has  justi- 
fied the  well-known  enthusiasm  of  Erasmus.  These  men,  however, 
were  the  first  generation.  Groscyn  and  Linacre  had  studied  under 
Chalcondylas  and  Politian  at  the  Florentine  court  of  Lorenzo.  It 
was  from  Italy  they  brought  back  the  first  great  enthusiasm  for 
the  new  learning. 


HUMANISM  237 

The  effect  of  this  enthusiasm  for  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages, 
the  desire  to  improve  the  native  vernacular,  differed  in  p>oetry  and 
prose.  The  fact  that  the  Latin  poetry  is  quantitative,  rendered 
the  classics  less  available  as  models.  At  first  what  English  poetry 
gained  from  the  study  of  classical  poetry,  (while  theoretically  stress- 
ing serenity  and  broadness  of  outlook,)  actually  is  shown — since 
the  faults  are  best  imitated — ^by  the  frippery  and  artificiality  of 
the  English.  It  is,  therefore,  no  matter  of  surprise,  however  much 
it  may  be  a  matter  of  regret,  that  the  first  poetic  effort  should  be 
to  naturalize  the  most  absurdly  artificial  of  all  forms,  the  pastoral 
eclogue. 

The  life  of  Alexander  Barclay  is  still  largely  enveloped  in  shadow. 
In  all  probability  he  was  a  Scotchman,  but  he  had  lived  a  long 
time  in  England.  Connected  with  the  Church,  he  had  the  leisure 
to  write,  and  connected  with  the  court,  he  had  the  inclination.  In 
1514 — the  dating  is  due  to  internal  evidence — ^he  brought  out  the 
first  five  eclogues  in  English.  The  publication  of  these  must  have 
been  irregular.  Bale,  writing  in  1550  to  1552,  credits  him  with  ten; 
this  must  be  an  error.  The  first  three  appeared  first,  the  fourth 
and  fifth  straggled  along  later,  but  the  prologue,  which  assumes 
that  they  were  all  written  at  the  same  time,  was  aflixed  to  the 
edition  containing  the  first  three  only.  The  three,  as  stated  on 
the  title-page,  were  "gathered  out  of  a  booke  named  in  Latin, 
MiserioB  Curialium,  compiled  by  Eneas  Siluius  Poet  and  Oratour." 
The  selection  of  ^Eneas  Silvius  (1405 — 1464)  is  not  hard  to  ex- 
plain. A  thorough  man  of  the  world  and  a  voluminous  writer,^  on 
becoming  Pope  under  the  name  of  Pius  II,  he  issued  his  rhetorical 
apology,  which  heads  his  works.  And  as  Pope  he  tried  to  unite 
Christendom  against  the  Turks.  Thus  he  pleased  both  parties; 
the  sinners  by  his  writings  and  the  saints  by  his  retraction.  The 
De  Curialium  Miseriis,  that  Barclay  elected  to  versify,  is  a  letter 
to  John  Aich  of  sixteen  pages  of  Latin  prose.  After  an  anecdote 
showing  his  father's  dislike  of  courts,  he  gives  three  orders  of 
fooLs;  those  who  do  not  know  what  they  wish;  those  who  wish  the 
harmful;  and  those  who,  to  attain  their  desires,  seek  the  wrong 
way.  To  one  of  these  belongs  the  courtier  who  seeks  honor,  fame, 
power,  riches,  or  pleasure  from  a  king.  His  life  while  at  court  is 
not  agreeable,  and,  when  abroad,  he  suffers  the  inclemency  of  the 
'  The  edition  of  Basel,  1551,  which  I  have  uaed,  contaiiu  1086  folio  pages. 


288  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

weather.  This  dilemma  he  proves  by  extremes,  ignoring  the  ter- 
tium  quid.  From  the  Ciceronism  of  the  style,  it  is  quite  clearly 
an  academic  exercise,  a  pleasing  paradox. 

This  jeu  d'esprit,  written  thirteen  years  before  he  became  Pope, 
was  apparently  taken  by  Barclay  as  having  the  full  papal  authority. 
He  stresses  his  author  over  and  over  again. 

So  writeth  Pius  (whom  some  Eneas  call)  ^ 

These  be  the  wordes  of  Shepherde  Stiuiua  (nc)  * 
Which  after  was  pope,  and  called  was  Pius. 

No,  but  harke  man  what  sayth  the  good  pope  Siluius.' 

This  is  justified  by  the  fact  that  the  main  part  of  the  first  three 
eclogues,  (which  fill  twenty-seven  large  folio  pages),  is  taken  from 
iEneas  Silvius.  The  First  Eclogue  deals  with  the  subject  in  gen- 
eral; the  Second  with  the  life  at  court;  and  the  Third  with  the 
life  abroad.  From  the  second  come  the  very  realistic  descriptions 
of  court-life,  which  are  worth  quoting  for  a  counter-reaction 
against  the  usual  romantic  impression.  They  are  paraphrases 
from  the  Latin,  but  at  the  same  time  in  Barclay's  mind  they  ap- 
plied to  English  life. 

Condon,  forsooth  it  is  as  thou  doest  say. 

But  these  be  thinges  most  chiefe  and  principal!, 

Onely  reserued  for  greatest  men  of  all: 

As  for  other  clothes  which  serue  the  commontie, 

Suche  as  I  tolde  thee  or  els  viler  be. 

And  still  remayne  they  vnto  the  planke  cleuing. 

So  blacke,  so  baudie,  so  foule  and  ill  seming. 

Of  sight  and  of  cent  so  vile  and  abhominable. 

Till  scant  may  a  man  disceme  them  from  the  table. 

But  nowe  heare  what  meat  there  nedes  eate  thou  must. 

And  then  if  thou  mayst  to  it  apply  thy  lust  * 

Thy  meate  in  the  court  is  neyther  swanne  nor  heron, 

Curlewe  nor  crane,  but  course  beefe  and  mutton. 

Fat  porke  or  vele,  and  namely  such  as  is  bought 

For  easter  price  when  they  be  leane  and  nought. 

Thy  fleshe  is  restie  or  leane,  tough  and  olde. 

Or  it  come  to  borde  unsauery  and  colde, 

^  Certayne  Egloges  by  Alexander  Barclay,  1570;  Spenser  Society,  1885,  p.  11. 

*  Ibid.,  p.  7. 
» Ibid.,  p.  7. 

*  By  a  misprint,  this  line  is  repeated  in  1570  ed. 


HUMANISM  239 

Sometime  twise  sodden,  and  cleane  without  taste, 

Saused  with  coles  and  ashes  all  for  haste. 

When  thou  it  eatest  it  smelleth  so  of  smoke 

That  euery  morsell  is  able  one  to  choke. 

Make  hunger  thy  sause  be  thou  neuer  so  nice, 

For  there  shalt  thou  finde  none  other  kinde  of  spice. 

Thy  potage  is  made  with  wedes  and  with  ashes. 

And  betwene  thy  teeth  oft  time  the  coles  crashes. 

Sometime  halfe  sodden  is  both  thy  fleshe  &  broth. 

The  water  and  hearbes  together  be  so  wroth 

That  eche  goeth  aparte,  they  can  not  well  agree. 

And  ofte  be  they  salte  as  water  of  the  sea. 

Seldome  at  chese  hast  thou  a  little  licke. 

And  if  thou  ought  haue  within  it  shall  be  quicke. 

All  full  of  magots  and  like  to  the  raynebowe. 

Of  diuers  colours  as  red,  grene  and  yelowe. 

On  eche  side  gnawen  with  raise  or  with  rattes. 

Or  with  vile  wormes,  with  dogges  or  with  cattes, 

Uncleane  and  scoruy,  and  harde  as  the  stone. 

It  looketh  so  well  thou  wouldest  it  were  gone. 

If  thou  haue  butter  then  shall  it  be  as  ill 

Or  worse  then  thy  chese,  but  hunger  hath  no  skill. 

And  when  that  egges  halfe  hatched  be  almost  / 

Then  are  they  for  thee  layde  in  the  fire  to  rost. 

If  thou  haue  peares  or  apples  be  thou  sure 

Then  be  they  suche  as  might  no  longer  endure. 

And  if  thou  none  eate  they  be  so  good  and  fine 

That  after  diner  they  seme  for  the  swine. 

Thy  oyle  for  frying  is  for  the  lampes  mete, 

A  man  it  choketh  the  sauour  is  so  swete, 

A  cordwayners  shop  and  it  haue  equall  sent, 

Suche  payne  and  f>enaunce  accordeth  best  to  lent, 

Suche  b  of  this  oyle  the  sauour  perillous. 

That  it  might  serpentes  driue  out  of  an  house, 

Oftetime  it  causeth  thy  stomake  to  reboke. 

And  ofte  it  is  ready  thee  sodenly  to  choke. 

Of  fishe  in  some  court  thy  chefe  and  vsed  dishe 

Is  whiting,  hearing,  saltfishe  and  stockfishe. 

If  the  daye  be  solemne  perchaimce  thou  mayst  fele 

The  taste  and  the  sapour  of  tenche  or  ele. 

Their  muddy  sapour  shall  make  thy  stomake  ake. 

And  as  for  the  ele  is  cosin  to  a  snake. 

But  if  belter  fishe  or  any  dishes  more 

Come  to  thy  parte  it  nought  was  before. 

Corrupt,  ill  smelling,  and  fiue  dayes  oldc. 

For  sent  thou  canst  not  rt'ceyue  it  if  thou  would. 


240  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Thy  bread  is  blacke,  of  ill  sapour  and  taste. 

And  harde  as  a  flint  because  thou  none  should  wast. 

That  scant  be  thy  teeth  able  it  to  breake, 

Dippe  it  in  f>otage  if  thou  no  shift  can  make. 

And  though  white  and  browne  be  both  at  one  price. 

With  broune  shalt  thou  fede  least  white  might  make  thee  nice. 

The  lordes  will  alway  that  people  note  &  see 

Betwene  them  and  seruauntes  some  diuersitie. 

Though  it  to  them  tume  to  no  profite  at  all. 

If  they  haue  pleasour  the  seruaunt  shall  haue  small. 

Thy  dishes  be  one  continuing  the  yere. 

Thou  knowest  what  meat  before  thee  shall  appeare. 

This  slaketh  great  parte  of  luste  and  pleasour. 

Which  slaketh  daynties  moste  diuers  of  sapour. 

On  one  dishe  dayly  nedes  shalt  thou  blowe. 

Till  thou  be  all  wery  as  dogge  of  the  bowe. 

But  this  might  be  suffred  may  fortune  easily. 

If  thou  sawe  not  sweter  meates  to  passe  by, 

For  this  vnto  courtiers  moste  commonly  doth  hap. 

That  while  they  haue  broime  bread  &  chese  in  their  lap. 

On  it  faste  gnawing  as  hoimdes  rauenous, 

Anone  by  them  passeth  of  meate  delicious. 

And  costly  dishes  a  score  may  they  tell. 

Their  greedy  gorges  are  rapt  with  the  smell. 

The  deynteous  dishes  which  passe  through  the  hall. 

It  were  great  labour  for  me  to  name  them  all. 

And  Condon  all  if  I  would  it  were  but  shame 

For  simple  shepheardes  suche  daynties  to  name. 

With  broune  bread  and  chese  the  shepheard  is  content. 

And  scant  see  we  fishe  paste  once  in  the  lent. 

And  other  seasons  softe  chese  is  our  food. 

With  butter  &  creame  then  is  our  diner  good. 

And  milke  is  our  mirth  and  speciall  appetite. 

In  apples  and  plommes  also  is  our  delite. 

These  fill  the  belly  although  we  htmger  sore. 

When  man  hath  inough  what  nedeth  him  haue  more. 

But  when  these  courtiers  sit  on  the  benches  idle. 

Smelling  those  dishes  they  bite  vpon  the  bridle. 

And  then  is  their  payne  and  anger  felt  as  gall 

WTien  all  passeth  by  and  they  haue  nought  at  all. 

What  fishe  is  of  sauoiu*  swete  and  delicious 

While  thou  sore  hungrest  thy  prince  hath  plenteous 

Hosted  or  sodden  in  swete  hearbes  or  wine. 

Or  fried  in  oyle  moste  saporous  and  fine, 

Suche  fishe  to  beholde  and  none  thereof  to  taste. 

Pure  enuy  causeth  thy  heart  nere  to  brast. 

Then  seing  his  dishes  of  fleshe  newe  agayne. 


HUMANISM  241 

Thy  mlnde  hath  torment  yet  with  muche  great  payne. 

Well  mayst  thou  smell  the  pasties  of  a  hart 

And  diuers  daynties,  but  nought  shall  be  thy  parte. 

The  crane,  the  fesant,  the  pecocke  and  curlewe. 

The  partiche,  plouer,  bittor  and  heronsewe, 

Eche  birde  of  the  ayre  and  beastes  of  the  grounde 

At  princes  pleasour  shalt  thou  beholde  abounde. 

Seasoned  so  well  in  licour  redolent 

That  the  hall  is  full  of  pleasaunt  smell  and  sent. 

To  see  suche  dishes  and  smell  the  swete  odour. 

And  nothin  to  taste  is  vtter  displeasour. 


That  can  Amintas  recorde  and  testify. 

But  yet  is  in  court  more  payne  and  misery. 

Brought  in  be  dishes  the  table  for  to  fill. 

But  not  one  is  brought  in  order  at  thy  will. 

That  thou  would  haue  first  and  louest  principall 

Is  brought  to  the  borde  oft  times  last  of  all. 

With  breade  and  rude  meate  when  thou  art  saciate. 

Then  commeth  dishes  moste  sweete  and  delicate. 

Then  must  thou  eyther  despise  them  vtterly. 

Or  to  thy  hurt  surfet,  ensuing  gluttony. 

But  if  it  fortune,  as  seldome  doth  befall. 

That  at  be^nning  come  dishes  best  of  all. 

Or  thou  haste  tasted  a  morsell  or  twayne. 

Thy  dish  out  of  sight  is  taken  soone  agayne. 

Slowe  be  the  seruers  in  seruing  in  alway. 

But  swifte  be  they  after,  taking  thy  meate  away. 

A  speciall  custome  is  vsed  them  among. 

No  good  dish  to  suffer  on  borde  to  be  longe. 

If  the  dishe  be  pleasaunt,  eyther  fleshe  or  fishe. 

Ten  handes  at  once  swarme  in  the  dishe. 

And  if  it  be  fleshe,  ten  kniues  shalt  thou  see 

Mangling  the  flesh  and  in  the  platter  flee: 

To  put  there  thy  handes  is  perill  without  fayle. 

Without  a  gauntlet  or  els  a  gloue  of  mayle. 

Among  all  these  kniues  thou  one  of  lx>th  must  haue. 

Or  els  it  is  harde  thy  fingers  whole  to  saue: 

Oft  in  suche  dishes  in  court  is  it  scene. 

Some  leaue  their  fingers,  eche  knife  is  so  kene. 

One  finger  gnaweth  some  hasty  glutton. 

Supposing  it  is  a  piece  of  biefe  or  mutton. 

Beside  these  in  court  mo  paynes  shalt  thou  8«e, 

At  borde  be  men  set  as  thicke  as  they  may  be. 

The  platters  shall  passe  oft  times  to  and  fro. 

And  oucr  the  shoulders  and  head  shall  they  go. 


242  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

And  oft  all  the  broth  and  licour  fat 

Is  spilt  on  thy  gowne,  thy  bonet  and  thy  hat. 

Sometime  art  thou  thrust  for  litle  rowme  and  place. 

And  sometime  thy  felowe  reboketh  in  thy  face. 

Betwene  dish  and  dish  is  tary  tedious. 

But  in  the  meane  time  thogh  thou  haue  payne  greuous, 

Neyther  mayest  thou  rise,  cough,  spit,  or  mese. 

Or  take  other  easement,  least  thou  thy  name  may  lese. 

For  such  as  this  wise  to  ease  them  are  wont. 

In  number  of  rascoldes  courtiers  them  count. 

Of  meate  is  none  houre,  nor  time  of  certentie. 

Yet  from  beginning  absent  if  thou  be, 

Eyther  shalt  thou  lose  thy  meat  and  kisse  the  post. 

Or  if  by  fauour  thy  supper  be  not  lost. 

Thou  shalt  at  the  least  way  rebukes  soure  abide 

For  not  attending  and  fayling  of  thy  tide. 

Onions  or  garlike,  which  stamped  Testilis, 

Nor  yet  sweete  leekes  mayst  thou  not  eate  ywia. 

These  passages,  all  from  the  Second  Eclogue,  illustrate  Barclay's 
method.  They  are  "gathered"  out  of  the  Latin.  Aside  from  the 
inevitable  dilution  that  comes  from  translating  prose  into  verse, 
they  follow  the  Latin  almost  line  by  line.  But  not  quite.  Even 
here  Barclay  wishes  to  adapt  his  material  to  his  English  reader. 
Therefore  he  omits  the  various  citations  from  classical  authorities 
that  ^neas  Silvius  felt  necessary.  And  in  Italy,  evidently,  vege- 
tables formed  a  large  part  of  the  diet.  Among  the  ruined  dishes 
in  the  Latin  is  included  a  list  of  cabbages,  turnips,  pulse,  peas, 
beans,  and  lentils.  But  as  they  did  not  figure  largely  in  the  Eng- 
lish diet,  Barclay  passes  on  to  cheese  and  eggs.  In  regard  to  the 
extreme  anecdote  of  the  finger  in  the  pie,  iEneas  Silvius  is  quite 
careful  to  report  it  as  a  story  that  "they  say"  once  happened  to  a 
Florentine  dining  at  the  table  of  an  Archbishop  of  Stirgonia  (Gran, 
Hungary).  The  Italian  gave  it  as  a  possible  occurrence  in  a  far 
country.  Barclay  for  the  uncultivated  English  audience  has  no 
hesitation  in  telling  it  as  the  usual  happening  at  an  English  court. 

When  one  considers  the  content  of  these  eclogues,  realistic  if  not 
satiric,  the  pastoral  form  seems  ideally  unfortunate.  It  is  neither 
the  classical  conception,  "toying  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade," 
nor  does  it  reflect  the  actual  conversation  of  shepherds.  There  is 
something  grotesque  in  the  thought  that  it  is  in  such  work  that  the 
pastoral  eclogue  makes  its  appearance  in  English  literature!    The 


HUMANISM  243 

reason  for  the  employment  of  the  pastoral  form  may  be  due  to  the 
example  of  Octovien  de  Saint-Gelays,  Bishop  of  Angouleme  in 
whose  La  Chasse  et  le  Depart  df  Amours,  1509,  is  included  the  Debai 
du  Seigneur  de  court  et  du  Seigneur  des  champs.^  On  a  spring  morn- 
ing, the  author,  leaving  Paris  for  Tours,  meets  a  group  of  cavaliers. 
Among  them  are  two,  the  Lord  of  the  Court,  and  the  Lord  of  the 
Country,  who  in  a  dialogue  discuss  the  respective  advantages 
of  each  locality.  If  two  writers  at  about  the  same  time  happened 
to  translate  the  Latin  prose  into  a  dialogue  in  verse,  the  coin- 
cidence is  at  least  striking.  The  probability  seems  to  me  that 
Barclay,  in  choosing  the  particular  piece  for  his  verse  experiment, 
followed  episcopal  precedent. 

The  main  source  of  his  form,  however,  is  quite  another  person. 
In  his  Prologue,  after  mentioning  Theocritus  and  Vergil  as  writers 
of  eclogues,  he  continues:  ^ 

And  in  like  maner  nowe  lately  in  our  dayes 
Hath  other  Poetes  attempted  the  same  wayes: 
As  the  moste  famous  Baptist  Mantuan 
The  best  of  that  sort  since  Poetes  first  began. 

Baptista  Spagnolo,  usually  called  Mantuanus  (1448-1516)  was 
the  General  of  the  Carmelite  Order.  His  ten  Eclogues,  first  printed 
in  1498,  achieved  an  immediate  popularity, — ^which  they  held  for 
a  century.^    With  no  more  intimation  than 

But  to  the  Reader  nowe  to  retume  agayne, 
First  of  this  thing  I  will  thou  be  certayne. 
That  fine  Egloges  this  whole  treatise  dothe  holde. 
To  imitation  of  other  Poetes  olde. 

he  proceeds  to  graft  Mantuan  upon  the  first  three  eclogues  and  to 
combine  others  of  his  to  form  the  last  two.^    As  an  illustration 

^  As  I  have  never  seen  this,  I  judge  of  it  solely  from  the  thesis  on  Octovien  de 
Saint-Gelays,  by  L'Abb<5  H.  J.  Molinier,  1910.  From  the  few  verses  cited,  the 
resemblance  between  it  and  the  Barclay  is  no  more  than  would  come  from  versifying 
a  common  source. 

*  Certayne  Egloges,  ibid.,  p.  1. 

*  They  have  been  edited  by  W.  P.  Mustard,  Professor  in  Johns  Hopkins  Univer- 
sity, with  an  excellent  preface.  Professor  Mustard  has  placed  all  students  of  Eng- 
lish in  his  debt  by  tracing  the  sixteenth  century  imiLitions  of  Mantuan. 

*  *'  Barclay's  fourth  is  a  paraphrase  of  Mantuan's  fifth;  his  fifth  is  a  paraphrase  of 
Mantuan's  sixth,  with  the  insertion  of  a  long  passage  taken  from  Mantuan 'a 


244  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

of  his  method,  the  First  Eclogue  will  serve.  The  first  thirty-seven 
lines  from  Mantuan's  Third  Eclogue  are  here  expanded  to  one  hun- 
dred and  eight  lines.  In  reply  to  the  question,  of  what  crime  are 
we  guilty,  the  reply  is  the  single  Une 

luigia,  furta,  ine  Venus,  et  mendacia,  rixse. 
This  in  Barclay's  version  becomes  eight  lines. 

Nowe  trust  me  truly  though  thou  be  neuer  so  wroth, 
I  nought  shall  abashe  to  thee  to  say  the  troth: 
Though  we  shepheardes  be  out  of  company. 
Without  occasion  we  Hue  vnhappely, 
Seke  well  among  vs  and  playnly  thou  shalt  see 
Theft,  brauling,  malice,  discorde,  iniquitie. 
Wrath,  lechery,  leasing,  enuy  and  couetise. 
And  briefly  to  speake,  truly  we  want  no  vice. 

Poor  Barclay !  "Briefly  to  speake "  was  out  of  his  power !  The  next 
three  hundred  lines  are  original,  and  then  seven  and  a  half  pages 
are  adapted  from  ^Eneas  Silvius.  Thus  the  First  Eclogue  is  a 
curious  composite  of  three  quite  different  materials. 

But  it  must  be  said  that  all  the  three  are  assimilated  into  an 
unity,  and  that,  the  unity  of  an  English  poem.  This  is  accom- 
plished by  the  interjection  of  local  detail,  and  personal  references, 
even  in  the  midst  of  the  translated  portions,  and  especially  by  the 
long  transitional  passages  that  are  entirely  English  in  tone.  The 
first  of  these  may  be  illustrated  from  the  First  Eclogue;  the  Latin 
says  that  a  man  is  a  fool,  if  he  choose  the  worse  rather  than  the 
better  route  to  Rome;  for  Rome,  Barclay  gives  a  wide  range  of 
choice. 

As  if  diuers  wayes  laye  vnto  Islington, 

To  Stow  on  the  Wold,  Quaueneth  or  Trompington, 

To  Doner,  Durham,  to  Barwike  or  Exeter, 

To  Grantham,  Totnes,  Bristow  or  good  Manchester 

To  Roan,  Paris,  to  Lions  or  Floraunce. 

seventh  (^56).  .  .  .  The  beginning  of  the  first  is  due  to  the  beginning  of  Man- 
tuan's third  (1-37),  and  the  punning  allusion  to  Bishop  Alcock  (p.  5)  is  adapted 
from  Mantuan's  allusion  to  Falcone  de'  Sinibaldi  (ix,  213  ff.)  The  beginning  of  the 
second  repeats  a  passage  from  Mantuan's  second  (1-16);  the  beginning  of  the 
fourth  reminds  one  of  Mantuan's  ninth  (117-119)  and  tenth  (137-141,  182-186); 
and  toward  the  close  of  the  fifth  (p.  45)  there  is  a  passage  which  comes  from  Man- 
tuan's second  (66-78)."  Professor  Mustard's  Introduction,  p.  48.  Then  he  com- 
ments on  the  resemblance  between  the  riddles  in  the  Prologue. 


HUMANISM  245 

Twelve  English  towns  are  here  given,  three  French,  and  but  one 
ItaUan,  and  Rome  itself  is  unmentioned.  ^neas  Silvius  makes  an 
exception  of  the  courts  of  good  princes,  (and  he  names  a^list),  end- 
ing with  his  particular  prince.  Barclay  carefully  copies  this  list, 
ending,  however,  with  an  English  reference. 

Of  suche  could  I  count  mo  then  a  twentie  score. 
Beside  noble  Henry  which  nowe  departed  late. 
Spectacle  of  vertue  to  euery  hye  estate,  .  .  . 
And  Henry  the  eyght  moste  hye  and  triumphant. 
No  gif  te  of  vertue  nor  manlines  doth  want,  .  .  . 
But  while  I  ought  speake  of  courtly  misery. 
Him  with  all  suche  I  except  vtterly.^ 

And  equally  the  same  eflFect  is  gained  by  his  use  of  peculiarly 
English  idioms  and  very  vulgar  English  words.  Thus  in  the  Fifth 
Eclogue  he  illustrates  with  a  huckster,  a  costermonger,  a  hostler 
and  a  barmaid  named  Bess,  all  of  whom  had  learned  to  cheat  in 
the  city. 

"  What  needeth  more  processe,  no  craft  of  the  Citie 
Is,  but  is  mingled  with  fraude  and  subtil  tie: 
Saue  onely  the  craft  of  an  Apoticary, 
That  is  all  fraude  and  gilefull  pollicy.* 

Naturally  the  poems  read  as  though  they  were  original  composi- 
tions. 

This  effect  is  increased  by  the  insertion  of  long  portions  that 
are  not  translations.  In  the  Fourth  Eclogue  there  are  four  eight- 
line  stanzas  on  sapience,  and  thirty-nine  stanzas  of  lamentation 
on  the  death  of  Sir  Edward  Howard.  There  is  a  casual  allusion 
to  Colet.^ 

I  tell  thee  Codrus,  this  man  hath  won  some  soules 

This  device  is  still  more  apparent  in  the  long  eulogy  of  Bishop 
Alcock  of  Ely,  in  the  First  and  the  Third  Eclogues.  It  is  really  a 
discussion  of  the  condition  of  the  English  Church.  Morton, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  "which  woned  in  Mortlake,"  and 
Alcock,  Bishop  of  Ely,  have  died.*  The  first  is  praised  for  his 
patronage  of  "thinges  pastorall,"  and  the  second  particularly 

»  Page  0.  «  Page  44.  »  Page  S3.  *  They  both  died  in  1500. 


246  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

for  his  care  for  Ely  Cathedral.  But  he  adds  that  this  cock  ^  was  a 
protection  against  the  foes  of  the  Church. 

And  while  we  slumbered  he  did  our  foldes  kepe. 
No  cur,  no  foxes,  nor  butchers  dogges  wood 
Coulde  hurte  our  fouldes.  .  . 
This  cocke  was  no  more  abashed  of  the  foze. 
Then  is  a  lion  abashed  of  an  oxe. 

The  diflSculty  in  discussing  an  allegory  is  that  there  is  a  danger 
of  reading  into  it  more  than  is  intended.  Yet  the  punning  on  the 
name  Alcock,  suggests  that  by  the  "fox"  may  be  meant  Richard 
Fox,  Bishop  of  Winchester  and  Lord  Privy  Seal.  The  story  is 
told  of  him  by  Erasmus,  who  learned  it  of  Sir  Thomas  ISIore,  that 
he  raised  a  loan  from  the  clergy.  Those  who  were  finely  dressed, 
he  argued,  could  afford  to  pay;  to  those  poorly  clad,  however,  he 
declared  that,  as  they  must  be  saving  money,  they  also  could 
afford  to  pay.  This  tale  is  dated  by  Fowler  ^  in  1504.  And  if 
this  be  true,  the  "butcher  dog"  may  be  aimed  at  Wolsey  who  by 
1507  was  ^  "  intimate  with  the  most  powerful  men  at  court,  espe- 
cially with  Richard  Foxe. "  This  seems  rational  in  spite  of  Ward's 
protest.^  How  far  there  may  be  other  allusions  concealed  under 
the  cloak  of  the  allegory  awaits  an  answer  by  the  special  student 
of  the  poems. 

But  upon  the  identification  of  these  allusions  depends  also  the 
dating.  Externally  there  is  no  help  because  none  of  the  five  early 
editions  have  any  date.  As  one,  however,  is  by  Pynson,  who  died 
in  1530,  they  must  be  before  that  year.  And  as  Alcock  and  Morton 
died  in  1500,  they  must  follow  that  year.  These  are  the  two 
limits.    In  his  Prologue  Barclay  himself  gives  this  account. 

So  where  I  in  youth  a  certayne  worke  began. 
And  not  concluded,  as  oft  doth  many  a  man: 
Yet  thought  I  after  to  make  the  same  perfite. 
But  long  I  missed  that  which  I  first  did  write. 

I  It  is  imnecessary  here  to  see  an  imitation  of  Mantuan  as  does  Professor  Mustard 
(op.  cit.,  493).    Alcock  himself  was  accustomed  thus  to  pun  upon  his  own  name. 

*  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  Fox. 

*  James  Gairdner,  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  Wolsey. 

*  "Little  is  known  as  to  his  relations  to  Cardinal  Wolsey,  an  allusion  to  whom  has 
been  very  unreasonably  sought  in  the  mention  of  "butchers  dogges  wood  (mad)." 
Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  Barclay. 


HUMANISM  247 

But  here  a  wonder,  I  fortie  yere  save  twayne, 

Proceeded  in  age,  founde  my  first  youth  agayne. 

To  finde  youth  in  age  is  a  probleme  diffuse. 

But  nowe  heare  the  truth,  and  then  no  longer  muse. 

As  I  late  turned  olde  bookes  to  and  fro. 

One  litle  treatise  I  foimde  among  the  mo: 

Because  that  in  youth  I  did  compile  the  same, 

Egloges  of  youth  I  did  call  it  by  name. 

And  seing  some  men  haue  in  the  same  delite. 

At  their  great  instance  I  made  the  same  perfite. 

Adding  and  bating  where  I  perceyued  neede. 

This  is  so  like  Mantuan's  prose  prologue  to  his  Eclogues  that 
coincidence  is  out  of  the  question.^  But  here  again,  it  is  not  the 
similarity  that  is  important;  it  is  the  difference.  Whereas  Mantuan 
was  fifty  years  old,  Barclay  is  careful  to  state  accurately  that  he 
was  but  thirty -eight;  Mantuan  found  his  book  with  a  friend,  and 
Barclay  his  among  his  papers,  etc.  The  reason  why  these  petty 
details  are  of  importance  is  that  they  show  that  in  all  probability 
Barclay  is  telling  what  did  happen.  As  has  been  said,  the 
Eclogues  is  a  compilation.  There  were  probably  certain  separate 
works,  such  as  the  Alcock  passages,  the  proverbs  of  Solomon,  the 
Towre  of  Vertue  and  Honor  to  Sir  Edward  Howard,  and  the 
versification  of  the  MiserioB  Curalium.  To  these  from  internal 
references  varying  dates  may  be  attached.  The  Alcock  passages 
allude  to  dates  from  1500-07;  the  yEneas  Silvius  portions  around 
1509;  the  Towre  must  be  after  1513.  Then  later,  just  as  he  says, 
he  re-wrote  the  entire  mass  in  the  framework  adopted  from 
Mantuan,  although  the  ^neas  Silvius  portion  had  probably 
previously  existed  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue.  Thus  there  are 
inconsistencies.  Alcock  and  Morton  are  spoken  of  in  terms  that 
suggest  that  their  deaths  are  comparatively  recent  (1500);  then 
Henry  VII  has  apparently  but  lately  died  (1509);  and  he 
bewails  the  death  of  Sir  Edward  Howard  (1513).  Also  there  are 
minor  discrepances.    A  character,  Faustus,  tells  him  a  fact  that, 

'  "  Audi,  O  Pari,  senigma  perplexum  quod  CEklipodes  ipse  non  solveret.  ego  quin- 
quagenarius  et  iam  canescens  adulesccntiam  mean  repperi,  et  habeo  adulescentiam 
simul  et  senectam  .  .  .  anno  praeterito,  cum  Florentia  rediens  Bononiam  per- 
venissem,  intcllcxi  apud  quendam  litterarium  virum  esse  quendam  libellum  meum 
quem  olim  ante  religionem,  dum  in  gymnasio  Paduano  philosophari  inciperem, 
ludens  excuderam  et  ab  ilia  tetate  Adulescentiam  vocaveram.  .  .  ."  Mantuan, 
Mustard's  cd.,  p.  62. 


248  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

word  for  word,  is  taken  from  Mneas  Silvius,  and  yet  in  the  same 
eclogue  he  quotes  ^Eneas  Silvius  by  name.  It  seems  clear  that 
in  his 

Adding  and  bating  where  I  perceyued  neede^ 

he  did  not  always  succeed  in  eliminating  the  lines  of  the  addition. 
As  to  the  time  when  this  final  revision  was  made,  there  is  no 
means  of  determining.  As  by  1521  he  had  published  a  French 
beginner's  book,  and  as  Pynson  also  published  other  works 
attributed  to  him,  it  seems  probable  that  he  must  have  given  the 
Eclogues  their  final  form  not  long  after  1514.  But  the  important 
fact  is  that  they  represent  a  combination  of  the  works  of  his 
youth,  and  that  these  separate  works  were  very  free  translations, 
or  rather  adaptations  from  Latin  authors. 

It  is  this  same  union  of  translation  and  originality  that  marks 
Barclay's  chief  work,  The  Ship  of  Fools,  and  which  makes  it  per- 
plexing. Yet  the  genesis  of  it  is  clear.  In  1494  Sebastian  Brandt, 
the  professor  of  jurisprudence  in  the  new  University  at  Basel, 
published  his  poem  Narrenschiff.  His  mind  was  bourgeois  in 
type,  positive,  narrow,  and  prejudiced  in  favor  of  the  status  quo. 
In  this  respect  he  was  typical  of  the  majority  of  his  contemporaries. 
These  qualities  are  reflected  in  the  3517  octosyllabic  couplets  of 
the  poem.  The  name  comes  from  the  symbolism  of  a  boat,  laden 
with  all  sorts  and  varieties  of  fools,  arranged  in  categories.  Al- 
though written  in  Allemaine  German,  its  colloquial  and  proverbial 
style  rendered  it  extremely  popular.^  The  next  step  was  to  free 
it  from  dialectic  limitations  in  order  to  appeal  to  an  European 
pubUc.  With  Brandt's  concurrence  and  imder  his  direction,  Jacob 
Locher  adapted  the  poem,  as  Barclay  phrases  it,  "to  the  Vnder- 
stondinge  of  al  Christen  nacions  where  Laten  is  spoken.  '*  ^  But 
this  joint  production  is  far  from  being  merely  a  translation  from 
the  German.  Locher  (Philomusus)  later  became  an  opponent  of 
scholasticism;  even  in  1497  his  feeling  for  classical  culture  led  him 
to  modify  and  to  soften  the  original.  In  general  he  changes  the 
stress  from  BibUcal  to  classical  characters,  and  omits  and  expands 
in  deference  to  his  humanistic  audience.    Consequently,  to  speak 

*  There  were  nine  German  editions  before  1500. 

'  For  a  detailed  discussion  of  the  relations  of  these  three  editions,  the  reader  is 
referred  to  an  article  by  the  present  writer  in  The  Modern  Language  Review,  Vol, 
VII,  No.  S,  July  1913. 


HUMANISM  249 

of  Locher's  work  as  a  translation  is  scarcely  accurate;  founded 
upon  the  German,  and  in  most  cases  preserving  the  ideas  and 
illustrations  of  the  German,  it  is  yet  an  independent  work.  The 
colloquial  vivacity  has  been  crushed  into  sonorous  Latin.  The 
importance  of  this  distinction  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  is  Locher's 
version,  not  the  original,  that  Barclay  avowedly  imitates. 

But  the  Locher  is  only  the  basis  of  Barclay's  translation.  The 
fact  that  his  readers  had  the  verses  of  his  Actour  before  their  eyes 
apparently  made  him  feel  free  to  add  on  whatsoever  additional 
matter  he  saw  fit.  Occasionally  he  reverts  to  the  German  original. 
Often,  however,  he  adapts  the  amplification  of  the  French.  For 
example,  from  the  same  chapter  of  "  Disordered  Love, "  the  Latin 
dismisses  the  Anthony  and  Cleopatra  stoiy  in  four  lines.  The 
details,  filling  thirty  lines  in  the  English  are  taken  from  Riviere. 
And  he  feels  quite  at  liberty  to  add  his  own  material.  The  Envoy 
of  the  Actour y  Vol.  1,  p.  174  has  the  first  verse  literally  trans- 
lated, as  is  indicated;  the  second,  however,  is  original,  without 
any  indication.  The  same  is  true,  to  a  still  more  confusing  degree, 
of  the  Prologue.  Here  four  pages  are  translated  from  Locher, 
and  then  without  any  indication  he  adds  two  pages  in  the  first 
person,  using  his  own  name.  With  the  Latin,  it  would  be  perfectly 
clear;  without  the  Latin,  it  credits  him  with  many  opinions  on 
satire.   The  same  is  true  of  the  Argument.    It  opens : 

Here  after  foloweth  the  Boke  named  the  Shyp  of  Poles  of  the  world:  translated 
out  of  Laten,  French  and  Docke  into  Englysse  in  the  Ck)Iege  of  saynt  Mary  Otery 
By  me  Alexander  Barclay.  .  . 

and  without  any  indication  the  rest  of  the  page  is  taken  from 
Locher.  Naturally  readers  of  the  Jamieson  have  seen  a  personal 
reference  in  such  sentences  as: 

For  I  haue  but  only  drawen  into  our  moder  tunge,  in  rude  langage  the  sentences  of 
the  verses  as  nere  as  the  parcyte  of  my  wyt  wyl  suffer  me,  some  tyme  addynge, 
Bomtyme  detractinge  and  takinge  away  suche  thinges  a  semeth  me  necessary  and 
superfine  wherefore  I  desyre  of  you  reders  pardon  of  my  presumptuous  audacite 
trustynge  that  ye  shall  hoide  me  excused  if  ye  consyder  ye  scarsnes  of  my  wyt  and 
my  vnexpert  youthe.  I  haue  in  many  places  ouerpassed  dyuers  poetical  digressions 
and  obscurcnes  of  Fables  and  haue  concluded  my  worke  in  rude  langage  as  shall 
apere  in  my  translacion."  ^ 

'  Sensus  enim  duntaxat  notasque  vemaculi  carminis  simplici  numero  latrine 
tranatulimus.  Quapropter  et  vcniam  prsesumptse  nostne  audatite  ab  omnibus 
lectoribus  nos  consecuturos  confidimus  ai  priua  ingenii  nostri  mediocritatem :  et 


250  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Actually  it  is  but  a  free  version  from  the  Latin.  And  the  next 
sentence : 

But  the  speciyl  cawse  that  mouethe  me  to  this  besynes  is  to  auoyde  the  exe- 
crable inconuenyences  of  ydilnes  .  .  .  and  to  the  vtter  derision  of  obstynat  men 
delitynge  them  in  folyes  and  mysgouemance. 

is  taken  from  the  French.*  The  following  sentences  are  rather 
vaguely  suggested  by  Riviere,  and  the  end  is  original.  Thus  the 
Argument  is  not  a  bad  epitome  of  the  whole.  The  basis  is  the 
version  of  Locher,  which  was  printed  immediately  before,  but  upon 
it  Barclay  felt  at  liberty  to  add  whatever  he  either  found  in  other 
versions,  or  invented.^ 

As  this  method  of  composition,  or  translation,  is  followed  also 
in  the  Mirror  of  Good  Manners  (1520?)  from  Mancinus,  it  is  pos- 
sible to  discuss  Barclay's  use  of  material.  In  the  first  place,  the 
basis  of  the  poem,  whichever  it  may  be,  is  a  foreign  original.  This 
is  emphasized  apparently,  when  the  fame  of  the  author  will  give 
weight  to  the  admonitions.  Nevertheless,  the  actual  translation 
is  but  part  of  the  whole,  and  Barclay's  own  additions  (with  the 
exception  of  some  of  the  envoys  in  the  Ship  of  Fools)  are  not 
indicated.  Sometimes  this  additional  matter  is  merely  dilution. 
Such,  for  example,  is  his  rendition  of  the  one  line  of  Mancinus, 


Nil  melius  latiis  portat  mercator  ab  oris. 


into 


No  merchaundise  better  in  Martes  mayst  thou  finde 
Then  this  little  Booke  within  it  doth  conteyne. 
No  better  thinge  bringeth  the  marchaunt  out  of  Inde, 
From  Damas  or  Turkie,  from  Damiate  or  Spaynge, 
From  costes  of  Italy,  from  Naples  or  Almaygne. 
In  all  other  Nations  most  forayne,  far  and  straunge. 
Can  man  finde  no  better  marchaundise  nor  chaunge. 

teneros  lanuginis  annos  considerauerint.  poeticas  nempe  egressiones:  et  fabulosam 
obscuritatem  studiose  prseterii:  nudisque  et  natiuis  verborum  structuris:  facilique 
sententiarum  iunctura:  opus  absolui.    Locher,  1497. 

1  Fraustadt. 

*  Ship  of  Fools,  Jamiescm,  1,  146. 

The  great  foly,  the  pryde,  and  the  enormyte 
Of  our  studentis,  and  theyr  obstynate  errour 
Causeth  me  to  wryte  two  sentenccT  or  thre 
More  than  I  fynde  wrytyn  in  myne  actoure. 


HUMANISM  261 

Usually,  however,  it  is  not  simple  expansion.  The  fact  that  in  the 
early  editions  the  Latin  text  paralleled  the  EngUsh,  made  him  feel 
at  liberty  to  add  his  own  reflections,  to  drive  the  point  home  by 
local  allusions,  by  comments  on  his  contemporaries,  or  by  illus- 
trations drawn  from  English  literature. 

....  for  why  my  wyll  is  gode 

Men  to  induce  vnto  vertue  and  goodnes 

I  wryte  no  lest  ne  tale  of  Robyn  hode 

Nor  sawe  no  sparcles  ne  sede  of  vyciousnes 

Wyse  men  loue  vertue,  wylde  people  wantones 

It  longeth  nat  to  my  scyence  nor  cunnynge 

For  Phylyp  the  Sparowe  the  (Dirige)  to  synge.* 

Or  he  may  enlarge  the  point  in  gnomic,  antithetic  phrases. 

What  difference  betweene  a  great  theife  and  a  small. 
Forsooth  no  more  but  this  to  speake  I  dare  be  bolde. 
The  great  sitteth  on  benche  in  costly  furres  of  pall. 
The  small  thiefe  at  barre  standeth  trembling  for  colde. 
The  great  thieves  are  laded  with  great  chaynes  of  golde. 
The  small  thiefe  with  yron  chayned  from  all  refuge. 
The  small  thiefe  is  iuged,  oft  time  the  great  is  Judge.* 

Naturally  this  stylistic  peculiarity  allows  him  to  work  in  a  large 
number  of  proverbs, — a  feature  that  for  some  reason  seems  to  be 
counted  unto  him  for  righteousness.  The  effect  of  such  treatment 
is  to  make  the  poems  read  like  original  compositions.  The  foreign 
material,  German,  Latin,  or  French,  whichever  it  may  be,  has 
been  thoroughly  assimilated,  and  adapted  to  his  English  audience. 
Therein  lies  his  art.  He  is  not  a  poet  but  a  preacher,  taking  and 
adapting  to  his  purpose  whatever  he  thinks  may  improve  the 
morals  of  his  readers.  Thus  his  works  are  no  more  satires  than  is  a 
sermon.  These  are  sermons  versified.  It  was  suggested  to  him  that 
he  modernize  a  "Confession  of  Lovers"  (Gower's  Confessio  Aman- 
tiaf) ;  whereupon  he  produced  the  Mirror  of  Good  Manners^  which 

Much  briefly  contejnieth  foure  vertues  cardinal. 
In  right  pleasant  processe,  plaine  and  commodious. 
With  light  fote  of  meter,  and  stile  heroicall. 
Rude  people  to  infourme  in  language  maternal], 

^SkipofFooU,  11,831. 

*  Mirror  of  Goode  Manners,  Spenser  Society,  p.  34. 


252  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

To  whose  understanding  maydens  of  tender  age. 
And  rude  little  children  shall  find  easy  passage.^ 

History  is  silent  on  the  comments  made  by  his  patron,  when  he 
learned  of  the  substitution.  Even  Gower  is  light  reading  compared 
to  Barclay !  And  purely  for  his  readers*  good,  without  a  thought 
of  self-advertisement,  we  find  him 

Exhorting  and  praying  the  dwellers  of  Englande, 
This  new  and  small  treatise  to  reade  and  understande.* 

To  the  same  reformatory  spirit  are  due  the  Eclogues.  In  his  own 
mind,  there  is  little  pretence  of  a  literary  interest. 

But  if  that  any  would  nowe  to  me  obiect 
That  this  my  labour  shall  be  of  small  effect. 
And  to  the  Reader  not  greatly  profitable. 
And  by  that  maner  as  vayne  and  reprouable,  .  .  . 
K  any  suche  reade  my  treatise  to  the  ende 
He  shall  well  perceyue,  if  he  thereto  intende. 
That  it  contejTieth  both  laudes  of  vertue. 
And  man  infourmeth  misliuing  to  eschue. 
With  diners  bourdes  and  sentences  morall 
Closed  in  shadowe  of  speeches  pastorall.* 

The  reader  of  the  Ship  of  Fools  is  admonished 

Amende  your  lyfe  and  expelle  that  vyce  away. 
Slomber  nat  in  syn.    Amende  you  whyle  ye  may.* 

Naturally  therefore,  disdaining  "Clio  nor  olde  Melpomene"  ^  he 
hopes  for 

The  glorious  sight  of  God  my  sauiour. ' 

Obviously  the  "light  fote  of  meter  and  stile  heroicall"  is  merely 
the  literary  sugar  to  the  moral  pill.* 

^  Mirror  of  Goode  Manners,  Chap,  on  Prudence. 

*  Ibid,  Prologue. 

*  Certain  Egloges,  ibid.  Prologue. 

*  Ship  of  Fools;  Exhortation. 

*  Certain  Egloges,  ibid. 

'  No  name  I  chalenge  of  Poete  laureate.  .  .  . 
Then  who  would  ascribe,  except  he  were  a  foole. 
The  pleasaunt  laurer  vnto  the  mourning  cowle. 

Certain  Eglogues,  Prologue. 


HUMANISM  253 

Not  only  is  he  a  preacher,  but  even  in  the  dawn  of  the  Renais- 
sance he  is  still  medieval.  His  only  advance  seems  to  be  in  his 
objection  to  the  excessive  use  of  the  syllogism,  then  in  vogue.  In 
other  respects,  he  stands  still.  At  a  time  when,  for  better  or  for 
worse,  the  human  intellect  was  convulsed  in  the  pangs  that  were 
to  result  in  the  birth  of  our  present  age-spirit,  in  the  age  of  human- 
ism, he  tells  us:  ^ 

There  is  yet  in  prudence  another  fault  and  crime. 
And  that  is,  when  people  agaynst  good  reason 
Wasteth  and  spendeth  in  vayne  study  longe  tim^ 
Searching  things  exceeding  their  dull  discretion. 
For  some  thinges  harde  be  in  inquisition, 
Requiring  great  study,  long  time  and  respite, 
Yet  graimte  they  no  profile,  no  pleasure  nor  dehght. 

In  the  age  of  Copernicus,  he  asks 

What  profiteth  it  man  to  search  busily 

The  courses  of  the  stars  hye  in  the  firmament. 

What  helpeth  this  study,  here  is  time  mispent. 

And  in  the  age  of  Columbus,  he  questions 

Whereto  dost  thou  study  to  purchase  or  obteyne 
The  science  of  artes  or  craftes  innumerable? 
Or  to  recount  the  countries  and  landes  variable 
Over  all  the  worlde,  where  both  the  lande  and  water 
Had  their  first  beginning  and  situation? 

Thus  his  influence  is  curiously  negative.  The  Ship  of  Fools  with 
its  detailed  discussions  of  the  minutia  of  life  is  the  longest  book  of 
don'ts  in  existence.  Like  all  such  categories  it  is  dispiriting.  It 
is  retrogressive  in  that  the  aim  is  to  hold  back  the  whirl  of  the 
world. 

His  form,  like  his  content,  belongs  to  the  past  age.  In  his  long- 
est poem.  The  Ship  of  Fools,  the  Latin  elegiacs,  which  were  adapted 
from  the  German  octosyllabic  couplets,  are  expanded  into  the 
seven  line  rime-royal.  Heroic  couplets  are  used  for  the  Eclogues 
and  couplets  of  sixes  for  the  Mirror  of  Good  Manners.  For  the 
envoys  to  the  chapters  of  the  Ship  of  Fools  he  is  apt  to  use  the 

*  Mirror  of  Goode  Manners,  ibid;  Prudence. 


254  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

stanza  form  of  the  French  ballade  riming  ababbcbc;  sometimes 
the  stanzas  are  joined  by  a  definite  refrain.^  The  French  origin, 
if  in  this  case  it  be  not  a  translation  or  adaptation,  is  shown  by  the 
fact  that  one  refrain  is  entirely  in  French.^  One  envoy  is  a  met- 
rical tour  de  force  of  five  stanzas  with  but  three  rimes  and  with 
a  refrain.^  Even  his  verse-forms,  as  well  as  his  conceptions, 
carry  over  into  the  Renaissance  medieval  conditions. 

Such,  then,  is  the  significance  of  his  work.  In  comparison  with 
the  poems  of  the  English  tradition,  he  brings  to  the  coming  litera- 
ture a  satiric  force,  a  downright  plainness,  and  a  concreteness  that 
was  lacking.  He  trades  in  personal  allusions  and  undignified  il- 
lustrations. Like  a  popular  preacher,  all  he  asks  is  that  his  au- 
dience get  his  point. 

And  ye  Jentyl  wymen  whome  this  lewde  vice  doth  blynde 

Lased  on  the  backe:  your  peakes  set  a  loft. 

Come  to  my  Shyp.  forget  ye  nat  behynde. 

Your  Sadel  on  the  tayle:  yf  ye  lyst  to  sit  soft. 

Do  on  your  Decke  Slut:  if  ye  purpos  to  come  oft. 

I  mean  your  Copyntanke:  And  if  it  wyl  do  no  goode. 

To  kepe  you  from  the  rayne.    Ye  shall  haue  a  foles  hode.* 

This  is  not  Uterature  in  the  sense  that  the  Court  of  Love  is  lit- 
erature, nor  has  it  the  humor  of  Heywood.  Yet  it  has  a  boisterous, 
rough,  colloquial  vigor.  There  is  strength  here,  but  no  subtlety. 
This,  then,  is  the  earliest  poetic  attitude  of  humanism;  preserving 
somewhat  the  form  and  somewhat  the  content,  yet  without  at- 
tempting to  transfer  either  the  form  or  the  content,  Barclay  writes 
an  original  English  poem. 

In  the  same  category  and  contemporaneous  with  Barclay,  whom 
he  mentions,  is  Henry  Bradshaw.^  The  date  of  his  death,  1513,  is 
given  by  a  ballad  which  appears  in  the  first  edition  (by  Pynson) 
in  1521.  Inferentially  he  died  young, — ^an  inference  that  is  fur- 
ther supported  by  his  reference  to  Barclay,  none  of  whose  work 

^  Jamieson  1,  284.  Thus  his  Balade  of  the  translaiour  in  the  honoure  of  the  bleasyd 
Virgyn  Mary,  moder  of  god  has  two  refrains. 

*  Ilz  sont  toiUz  mortz  ce  monde  est  choce  vayne,  1,  268. 

*  Leme  to  lyuve  by  the  rede  Rose  redolent,  2,  16. 

*  1,  38.    The  punctuation  is  so  obviously  wrong  that  it  is  not  misleading. 

'  His  pKjem,  The  Life  of  Saint  Werburge,  has  been  edited  for  the  E.  E.  T.  S.  by 
Dr.  Carl  Horstmann. 


HUMANISM  255 

antedates  1500.  His  only  poem  is  a  life  of  the  patron  saint  of  Ches- 
ter, Saint  Werburge,  in  789  stanzas  of  the  rime-royal.  Like 
the  Ship  of  Fools,  the  main  interest  of  this  lies  in  the  evidence  it 
affords  of  the  close  union  of  the  English  tradition  with  early  hu- 
manism. In  form  it  closely  follows  the  precedent  of  Lydgate. 
It  opens  with  the  usual  astronomical  allusion,  followed  by  medi- 
tations upon  the  mutability  of  fortune,  and  it  ends  with  the  usual 
apology.  Instead,  however,  of  invoking  Chaucer,  Gower  and  Lyd- 
gate, Bradshaw  omits  Gower  and  substitutes  Barclay  and  Skelton. 
The  body  of  the  poem  is  a  rimed  chronicle. 

On  the  other  hand,  exactly  as  in  Barclay's  poems,  the  original 
is  a  Latin  work.  In  this  case,  it  is  the  passionary  preserved  then 
in  the  monastery  and  since  lost. 

For  as  declareth  the  true  Passyonary, 
A  boke  wherein  her  holy  lyfe  wryten  is — 
Whiche  boke  remayneth  in  Chester  monastery — 
I  purpose  by  helpe  of  Ihesu,  kynge  of  blys. 
In  any  wyse  to  reherse  any  sentence  amys. 
But  folowe  the  legende  and  true  hystory. 
After  an  humble  style  and  from  it  lytell  vary.  * 

But  again  like  Barclay,  he  grafted  other  material. 

Vnto  this  rude  werke  myne  auctours  these  shalbe: 
Fyrst  the  true  legende  and  the  venerable  Bede, 
Mayster  Alfrydus  and  Wyllyam  Maluysburye, 
Gyrarde  Polycronycon  and  other  mo  in  deed.  * 

The  result  is  a  compilation  of  early  English  history,  the  genealogy 
and  life  of  the  Saint,  her  miracles  and  the  miracles  of  her  shrine. 
As  the  whole  of  these  works  are  in  Latin,  not  unnaturally  there  are 
stanzas  where,  as  the  English  has  failed  him,  Latin  is  substituted 
and  the  vocabulary  is  aureate.'  Yet  in  spite  of  the  mongrel  nature 
of  its  origin,  the  poem  has  a  certain  narrative  ability  and  a  naive 
faith  that  explain,  if  they  do  not  justify,  the  eulogy  of  its  editor. 
The  uncertainty  of  scansion,  which  evokes  the  wrath  of  Professor 

1  Book  I.    SUnza  100. 
*  Book  I.    Stanza  19. 

'  Dr.  Horstman  gives  a  long  list  of  such  words  as  jmdical,  odible,  etc.  Introduc- 
tion, pp.  xxxviii-xxxix. 


256  EARLY   TUDOR  POETRY 

Saintsbury,  is  sufficiently  illustrated  in  the  quotations  given.  As 
in  Barclay,  the  spirit  of  humanism  is  lacking;  the  author  is  a  medi- 
eval monk,  grimly  versifying  the  acts  of  his  saint  for  the  moral 
edification  of  mankind.  The  poem  is  therefore  only  a  more  ex- 
treme example  of  the  type  represented  by  Barclay.  Its  interest 
Ues  in  the  late  date  of  its  composition;  its  significance  lies  in  the 
beginnings  of  humanism  shown  in  it. 

Much  the  same  pseudo-humanism  is  shown  in  the  Epigrams  ^ 
of  John  Heywood.^  His  reputation  for  "mad  merry  wit"  is 
sufficiently  attested  by  Camden,  whose  illustrations  scarcely 
impress  the  modem  reader.'  Of  more  importance  is  his  statement 
that  Heywood  was  the  "first"  epigrammatist.  To  his  immediate 
successors,  at  least,  his  epigrams  were  the  most  widely  known  of 
his  work.  They  were  first  published  in  1562.  Yet  it  seems  prob- 
able that,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Spider  and  the  Flye,  many  of  them 
were  written  during  the  middle  years  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII. 
Still  more  the  tradition,  credited  to  Gabriel  Harvey  and  followed 
by  Fuller  and  Wood,  asserts  that  in  his  verses  he  has  copied  the 
wit  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  This  is  rendered  possible  by  the  fact 
that  he  had  married  Eliza  Rastell,  the  niece  of  More.  Probably 
his  epigrams  are  not  strictly  original, — they  are  a  re-coining  of 
the  sayings  of  many  men.  Thus  the  thirty-fifth  epigram  of  the 
Fifth  Hundred,  joking  on  the  fact  that  Gloria  patri  precedes  Sicvt 
erat  in  principio,  resembles  somewhat  the  bonmot  of  Stephen 
Gardiner  made  in  1532.^  Although  either  might  have  made  the 
remark  independently,  the  coincidence  seems  to  justify  an  early 
date. 

The  early  dating  is  also  borne  out  by  the  type  of  humanism 
represented  by  these  epigrams.  As  was  recognized  by  Puttenham 
in  1589,  Martial  "was  the  cheife  of  this  skil  among  the  Latines."  ^ 
Early  printed  editions  made  him  accessible  to  English  readers. 
That  actually  he  was  known  is  proved  by  Surrey's  translation  of 

^  These  have  been  reprinted  by  the  Spenser  Society,  1867;  and  by  the  Early 
English  Drama  Society,  Vol.  ii,  1900,  edited  by  Farmer.  The  third  volume  with 
the  announced  "terminal  essay"  has  never  appeared. 

*  The  reader  is  referred  back  to  p.  121. 

*  Remains  concerning  Britain  by  William  Camden;  J.  R.  Smith,  1870,  p.  314. 

*  Camden,  ilnd,  299. 

«  The  Arte  of  English  Poesie,  Arber  Reprint,  1895,  p.  68. 


HUMANISM  257 

the  forty-seventh  epigram  of  the  Tenth  Book  to  Julius  Martial,* 
beginning 

Martial],  the  thinges  that  do  attayn. 
The  happy  life,  be  these,  I  finde. 

It  would  be  natural,  therefore,  to  expect  in  Heywood  imitations 
and  suggestions  from  the  obvious  Latin  model.  The  actual  fact 
is  exactly  the  contrary.  Martial's  epigrams  are  both  personal 
and  local.  He  celebrates  events  interesting  principally  to  his 
contemporaries  and  to  antiquarians;  his  personalities,  written 
for  a  limited  Roman  circle,  must  have  been  read  with  attempted 
guesses  at  the  identity  of  the  persons  described.  If  they  were, 
many  of  them  are  so  foul  that  they  would  justify  murdering  him. 
Their  brevity,  their  wit,  and  in  Saintsbury's  phrase,  a  "certain 
viriUty  and  gusto"  alone  reward  the  student.  In  all  these  points 
save  brevity  Heywood  is  not  only  not  imitative,  but  is  even 
antithetical.  Heywood's  epigrams  have  all  the  universality  of 
the  phrases,  which  are  their  foundations.  For  example,  the 
expression,  to  turn  tippet  (i.  e.  turncoat),  has  fifteen  variants. 
His  verses  are  apt  to  be  little  more  than  a  punning  expansion  of  a 
colloquialism.  Naturally  then  there  can  be  no  personal  reference. 
And  this  especially  he  disavows :  ^ 

In  all  my  simple  writyng  neuer  ment  I, 

To  touche  any  priuate  person  displeasantly. 

Nor  none  do  I  touche  here:  by  name,  but  onely  one. 

Which  is  my  selfe:  whom  I  may  be  bolde  vpbn. 

Nor  does  he  any  more  follow  the  example  of  Martial  in  the  freedom 
of  his  language.^ 

Than  in  rough  rude  termes  of  homelie  honestie 

(For  vnhonest  terme  (  I  trust)  there  none  here  soundes) 

Wherin  fine  tender  eares  shal  offended  bee.  .  . 

*  Warton  alludes  to  this  epigram  as  Martialui  ad  Seipsum,  a  blunder  that  is 
followed  even  by  Padelford. 

»  Preface  to  the  Fifth  Hundred. 

*  Preface  to  the  First  Hundred.  It  is  this  attitude  that  renders  incomprehen- 
sible Sharman's  comment  {Proverbs  of  Heyvoood,  Introduction,  xlvii):  "Of  his 
best  (epigrams)  we  will  only  say  that  they  are  as  puerile  as  the  worst  of  Martial's, 
and  nearly  as  indelicate." 


«58  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

And  unless  such  conscious  refusal  to  follow  the  precedent  set  by 
the  great  Latin  exemplar  be  considered  to  argue  a  familiarity 
with  Martial,  there  is  no  allusion  to  the  Latin  poet. 

In  fact,  Heywood's  significance  lies  exactly  in  his  thoroughly 
English  content.  Whenever  the  allusion  becomes  temporal  or 
local,  the  reference  is  always  to  English  conditions  and  for  the 
English  reader.  There  is  no  classical  value  to  the  nineteenth  of 
the  Fifth  Hundred: 

Whens  come  great  breeches?  from  little  wittam. 
WLens  come  great  ruflFes?  from  small  brainfoorth  they  cam. 
Whens  come  these  round  verdingales?  from  square  thrift. 
Whens  come  deepe  copped  hattes.'  from  shallow  shift. 
Whens  come  braudered  gardis?  from  the  towne  of  euill. 
Whens  come  vncomde  staryng  heades?  from  the  deuill. 
Whens  come  these  womans  scarfs?  from  folly  lohn. 
Whens  come  their  glitterying  spanges?  from  much  wanton. 
Whens  come  perfumde  gloues?  from  curiositee. 
Whens  come  fyne  trapt  moyles?  from  superfluitee. 
Whens  come  comde  crooked  toes?  from  short  shapen  shoone. 
Whens  come  wylde  hie  lookers?  from  midsomer  moone. 
Whens  come  fayre  painted  faces?  from  peinters  tooles. 
Whens  come  all  these?  from  the  vicar  of  sainct  fooles. 

In  another  he  plays  with  the  proper  names  of  Huntingdon  and 
Hammersmith  and  in  still  another  with  the  quaint  names  of  the 
streets  of  old  London.  In  general,  it  must  be  confessed,  they  form 
rather  dreary  reading.  Puttenham's  comment,^  "lohn  Heywood 
the  Epigrammatist  who  for  the  myrth  and  quicknesse  of  his  con- 
ceits more  then  for  any  good  learning  was  in  him, "  still  holds  true. 
Modem  ears  are  too  delicate  to  enjoy  his  attack  uf)on  the  heavy 
stuffed  breeches  of  the  men,  or  the  thick  ruffs  of  the  women,  made 
from  the  standpoint  of  a  louse.  The  hundred  and  seventeenth 
of  the  Epigrammes  vpon  proverhes, 

A  cat  may  looke  on  a  kyng,  and  what  of  that. 
When  a  cat  so  lookth:  a  cat  is  but  a  cat. 

is  a  fair  example  of  his  wit,  and  one  that  time  has  not  affected. 
It  illustrates  also  the  great  service  that  he  rendered.  His  homely 
terms  preserved  and  made  fashionable  the  vast  quantity  of  the 

*  Puttenham,  ibid,  p.  74. 


HUMANISM  259 

mother-wit  of  his  ancestors.  Naturally  there  is  no  invention  here. 
His  work  is  merely  a  convenient  reservoir,  from  which  Shake- 
speare and  the  dramatists  drew  so  much.  Thus,  while  the  sugges- 
tion must  have  come  from  humanism  without  which  such  a  com- 
pilation would  have  not  been  made,  yet  the  resultant  is  pure 
English,  without  any  apparent  intermingling  of  classical  manner 
or  thought. 

Such  a  writer  as  Barclay  or  Heywood,  it  may  be  granted,  is 
connected  with  the  humanistic  movement  by  slight  ties.  This  is 
not  the  case  with  the  group  of  men  now  to  be  discussed.  In  spite 
of  such  men  as  Duke  Humphrey  and  Worcester,  humanism  may 
be  said  to  make  its  appearance  in  England  when  Chandler,  Warden 
of  New  College,  Oxford,  invited  the  ItaUan  Vitelli  to  give  lectures 
there  on  Greek,  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  quarter  of  the  fif- 
teenth century.  While  it  is  impossible  to  trace  a  direct  connection 
between  Vitelli  and  the  English  humanists,  some  connection  is 
inferential,  since  Oxford  became  the  center  of  the  movement  and 
the  location  of  a  remarkable  group  of  students.  Such  groups  star 
the  history  of  English  literature,  men  whose  friendships  bring  out 
the  best  in  each  one,  men  strongly  individual, — and  yet  who  are 
all  so  associated  in  a  common  group  that  to  mention  one  brings 
to  mind  the  others.  Their  lives  are  bound  together  by  a  fine 
reticulation  of  the  same  hopes  and  the  same  aspirations.  And  the 
influence  they  exert  is  rather  communal  than  individual.  In  the 
early  sixteenth  century,  such  a  nucleus  is  to  be  found  in  the  friends 
of  Grocyn,  "the  friend  and  protector  of  us  all"  as  Erasmus  calls 
him;  Linacre,  the  great  physician;  Latimer,  professor  of  Greek  at 
Oxford;  Colet  the  Dean  of  Pauls;  Lily,  the  grammarian;  More, 
the  Lord  Chancellor;  and  the  brilliant  visitor,  Erasmus.  The 
enthusiasm  of  Erasmus  may  be  best  illustrated  in  his  own  words. ^ 

But  how  do  you  like  our  England,  you  will  say.  Believe  me,  my  Robert,  when  I 
answer  that  I  never  liked  anything  so  much  before.  I  find  the  climate  both  pleasant 
and  wholesome;  and  I  have  met  with  so  much  kindness,  and  so  much  learning,  not 
hacknied  and  trivial,  but  deep,  accurate,  ancient,  Latin  and  Greek,  that  but  for  the 
curiosity  of  seeing  it,  I  do  not  now  so  much  care  for  Italy.  When  I  hear  my  Colet,  I 
seem  to  be  listening  to  Plato  himself.  In  Grocin,  who  does  not  marvel  at  such  a 
perfect  round  of  learning?  What  can  be  more  acute,  profound,  and  delicate  than 
the  judgment  of  Linacre.'    What  has  Nature  ever  created  more  gentle,  more  sweet, 

>  EpittUt  of  Erasmus,  translated  by  F.  M.  Nichols,  1901,  Vol.  i,  p.  226. 


260  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

more  happy  than  the  genius  of  Thomas  More?  I  need  not  go  through  the  list.  It  is 
marvellous  how  general  and  abundant  is  the  harvest  of  ancient  learning  in  this 
country,  to  which  you  ought  all  the  sooner  to  return. 

Although  Erasmus  lived  to  change  his  opinion  of  the  climate,  the 
estimate  then  expressed  of  his  English  friends  never  seriously  was 
altered.  This  judgment  is  endorsed  also  by  the  great  Venetian 
printer,  Aldus,  in  his  preface  to  Linacre's  translation,  Proclus  De 
S'phaera} 

...  so  that  from  the  same  Britain  whence  formerly  a  barbarous  and  unlearned 
literature  made  its  way  to  us,  occupying  and  still  holding  our  Italian  citadel,  we 
who  are  now  learning  to  speak  in  Latin,  and  as  becomes  men  of  learning,  shall  re- 
ceive a  knowledge  of  true  science,  and,  having  with  British  aid  put  barbarism  to 
flight,  win  back  our  citadel.  We  shall  thus  recover  it  by  the  use  of  the  very  weapons 
which  caused  the  disaster.  Admiring  the  Latinity  and  the  eloquence  of  these  men,  I 
have  thought  it  well  to  subjoin  a  certain  learned  and  elegant  letter  which  William 
Grocyn,  a  man  of  exceeding  skill  and  universal  learning,  even  in  Greek,  not  to  say 
Latin,  has  sent  me.  I  have  inserted  it  in  order  that  he  may  shame  our  philosophers 
out  of  their  barbarous  and  unskilful  mode  of  writing,  and  that  in  emulation  of  the 
Britons,  they — I  do  not  say  the  older  men  (grandwtn)  yepovriov  yap  ^iTTaKos 
ofieXei  okvtoXtjv — but  all  the  rest,  may,  in  Latin,  and  armed  with  the  requisite 
learning,  deal  with  philosophy. 

After  such  typical  eulogies  one  turns  to  the  work  that  justified 
them.  At  once  the  student  is  confronted  by  one  of  the  startling 
facts  concerning  the  early  Tudor  humanists,  namely  that  there 
is  very  little  work.  Aside  from  More,  and  of  course  Erasmus, 
their  contributions  to  literature  are  almost  nil.  Grocyn  survives 
only  in  his  letter  referred  to  by  Aldus,  and  a  very  doubtful  epi- 
gram quoted  by  Bale  and  Fuller;  Linacre's  work  is  largely  a  trans- 
lation into  Latin  of  the  Greek  medical  works  of  Galen;  Colet,  prin- 
cipally in  a  convocation  sermon  given  in  Knight's  Life;  ^  Linacre 
also,  and  Lily,  composed  Latin  grammars.  But  so  far  as  either 
Uterature  or  scholarship  is  concerned,  there  is  very  little.  One 
is  tempted  to  explain  their  present  celebrity  by  the  frequent  ref- 
erence to  them  in  the  letters  of  Erasmus.    Yet,  in  spite  of  the  pau- 

*  Quoted  by  Burrows,  Memoir  of  William  Grocyn,  Oxford  Historical  Society, 
Collectanea,  Second  Series,  p.  350. 

*  The  Life  of  Colet,  by  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Lupton,  is  the  standard.  At  the  end  of  The 
Influence  of  Dean  Colet  upon  the  Reformation  of  the  English  Church,  Dr.  Lupton 
gives  a  list  of  Colet's  works. 


HUMANISM  261 

city  of  the  remains,  that  they  had  a  significant  influence  upon  the 
future  of  English  is  a  fact. 

To  determine  exactly  what  was  that  influence  is  a  diflficult  prob- 
lem with  the  scarcity  of  data.  There  is  the  inevitable  temptation 
to  put  too  much  stress  upon  the  individual  detail.  The  fact  re- 
mains, however,  that  in  comparison  wilJi  the  genuine  humanism 
of  Italy,  English  humanism  seems  forced  and  artificial,  rather  of 
the  head  than  of  the  heart.  The  Epigrammata  (1520)  of  More 
and  Lily  suggest  in  their  frigidity  school  exercises.  The  majority 
of  them  are  commonplaces,  translated  fron  the  Greek  into  the 
Latin,  on  mediocrity,  the  shortness  of  life,  sleep,  death,  etc.  Those 
by  More  alone  dealing  with  contemporary  subjects,  such  as  the 
coronation  of  the  king,  or  the  epitaph  on  a  singer  Abingdon,  have 
much  the  same  tone.  It  is  all  an  intellectual  pastime  that  the 
author  plays  solemnly  with  himself.  Consequently  the  poems 
are  compressed  and  antithetic.     They  are  brilliant  and  hard. 

But  English  humanism,  being  this  artificial  intellectual  atti- 
tude, is  moral.  There  is  not  only  nothing  of  the  fluency  of  Politian, 
the  fire  of  MaruUus,  nor  the  sensuosity  of  Pontanus,  but  in  addi- 
tion the  English  humanists  reacted  against  them.  As  Beatus 
Rhenanus  expressly  states  it  in  his  preface  to  More's  Epigrams.^ 

Indeed  among  the  epigram-writers  today  in  the  first  rank  Italy  admires  Pontanus 
and  Marullus:  but  may  I  perish  if  in  this  (book)  there  is  not  as  much  nature,  indeed 
more  utility,  unless  indeed  anyone  feels  himself  greatly  helped  when  Marullus 
celebrates  his  Neaera,  and  chants  her  in  many  (verses),  following  a  certain  Heracli- 
tus,  or  when  John  Pontano  gives  us  the  vileness  of  the  old  epigrammatists,  than 
which  nothing  may  be  more  unworthy  the  reading  of  a  good  man,  I  will  not  say  of  a 
Christian. 

This  passage  suggests  the  line  of  cleavage  between  the  types  of 
humanism  developed  south  and  north  of  the  Alps.  In  Italy,  the 
model  accepted  was  Catullus.  He  it  is  that  Pontano,  Politian, 
and  Marullus  aim  to  follow,  rather  tlian  Horace.     The  reason  may 

*  lam  inter  epigrammatographos  Pontanum  &  Marullum  inprimis  hodie  miratur 
Italia:  at  dispeream,  si  non  tantundem  in  hoc  est  naturae,  utilitatis  vero  plus,  nisi  si 
quLs  indc  magnopere  se  credi  iuvari,  dum  suam  Neacram  celebrat  Marullus  &  in 
multls  cuviTTCTcu,  Heraclitum  quondam  agens,  aut  dum  lo.  Pontanus  veterura 
nobis  epigrammatistarum  nequitias  refrrt,  quil)us  nihil  sit  frigidius  &  boni  viri 
lectione  magis  indignum,  no  dicam  christiani.    Beatus  Rhenanus,  Basic,  1520. 


262  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

be,  as  has  been  suggested  to  me,  that,  while  Horace  was  an  old 
story,  the  comparatively  recent  finding  at  Verona  of  a  manu- 
script of  Catullus  put  an  exaggerated  value  up>on  his  work.  It  is 
also  due,  however,  to  the  nature  of  that  work.  The  fire  and  pas- 
sion of  Catullus  found  a  congenial  soil  in  Italy.  On  the  other  hand 
his  very  freedom  of  expression  tended  to  alienate  him  from  the 
northern  nations.  The  cold,  restrained,  northern  nature  felt  more 
at  ease  with  the  philosophy  of  Horace.  This  is  shown  by  the 
fact  that  while  the  first  northern  edition  of  Horace  appears  in 
1488,  and  by  1515  there  were  at  least  twenty-three  editions,  of 
Catullus,  Graesse  lists  only  two  before  1518,  and  those  come  from 
the  Italianate  city  of  Lyons.  In  the  list  of  books  in  Colet's  school, 
there  is  a  Horace  1475,  but  no  Catullus.  In  1520  John  Dome  sold 
nine  copies  of  various  works  of  Horace  and  none  of  Catullus.  He 
sold  two  copies  of  Politian's  introduction  to  the  Analytics  of 
Aristotle  and  one  of  his  Opera,  but  none  of  either  Pontanus,  or 
Marullus.  It  is  significant  of  this  English  attitude,  that  half  of 
the  books  of  Grocyn  should  deal  with  theology  and  philosophy, 
and  that  in  a  library  having  Cicero,  Plautus,  Lucretius,  Caesar, 
Livy,  Vergil,  Tacitus,  Suetonius,  Juvenal,  Persius,  Asconius,  Apul- 
eius,  Valerius,  Maximus,  and  Aulus  Gellius,  neither  Horace,  nor 
Catullus  should  find  a  place!  In  Tudor  England,  humanism  was 
a  serious,  moral,  reflective  force. 

In  considering  the  humanism  of  the  early  Tudors,  then,  these  are 
the  two  salient  characteristics,  their  sterility  and  their  morality. 
The  first  becomes  obvious  by  a  glance  at  the  lists  of  early  printed 
books.  Caxton's  books  are  almost  entirely  either  translations 
from  the  French,  or  issues  of  early  English  works,  such  as  Chaucer 
or  Lydgate.  It  is  this  that  gives  him  his  importance  in  literature. 
His  press  served  to  bridge  the  gap  of  the  fifteenth  century.  In 
the  dawn  of  the  Renaissance,  books  typical  of  the  Middle  Ages 
were  thus  brought  prominently  forward.  Caxton's  work,  there- 
fore, and  the  weight  of  his  influence,  from  the  standpoint  of  the 
humanist,  are  retrogressive.  Wynkyn  de  Worde  and  his  contem- 
porary Pynson,  Caxton's  successors,  naturally  followed  Caxton's 
policy,  with  the  variance  that  they  printed  also  more  contempo- 
rary works.  Thus  Wynkyn  de  Worde  publishes  Hawes,  and  Pyn- 
son, Barclay.  There  is  also  a  number  of  Latin  grammars  for  Eng- 
lish readers.    But  there  also  begins  the  issue  of  Latin  texts.    In 


HUMANISM  26S 

1497,  Pynson  brought  forth  six  plays  of  Terence,  and  in  1512, 
Wynkyn  de  Worde,  the  Bucolics  of  Vergil.  Slightly  earlier.  Rood 
had  issued  Aristotle's  Ethics  and  an  oration  of  Cicero.  Before 
the  first  quarter  of  the  century,  some  of  Seneca  and  the  Commen- 
taries of  Caesar  had  appeared.  Before  the  first  half  of  the  century 
had  passed,  probably  as  many  as  fifty  editions  of  Latin  writers 
had  been  pubUshed  by  English  printers.  But  when  this  is  con- 
trasted with  the  publications  of  the  single  Venetian  house  of  Aldus, 
the  result  seems  meagre  in  the  extreme. 

This  is  the  paradox  confronting  the  student  of  English  humanism. 
Here  is  a  group  of  men,  celebrated  for  their  learning,  that  nei- 
ther produced  much  themselves,  nor  apparently  stirred  others  to 
produce.  The  first  obvious  explanation  is  that,  so  far  as  the  crea- 
tion of  a  new  or  an  authoritative  text  of  any  classic  author  is  con- 
cerned, the  materials  were  largely  absent,  because  the  majority 
of  early  manuscripts  were  not  in  England.  Almost  necessarily 
such  work  could  be  better  done  by  European  scholars  and  their 
editions  would  be  accessible  in  the  English  markets.  Somewhat 
the  same  is  true  of  scholarly  commentary.  Linacre's  translation 
of  Galen  stands  as  an  exception,  yet  Linacre's  residence  abroad 
must  be  remembered.  After  all,  with  this  group,  English  scholar- 
ship was  of  the  first  generation.  As  such,  it  was  introductory  and, 
presumably,  by  word  of  mouth  to  college  classes.  It  was  as  real, 
although  not  so  obvious,  as  that  of  European  scholars.  And  the 
Englishmen  themselves  preferred  foreign  publishers.  Linacre  sent 
his  manuscript  to  Venice,  More  his  Utopia  to  Louvain,  and  his 
Ejngrammata  to  Basel.  Such  a  preference  is  readily  understand- 
able without  reflecting  upon  the  conditions  in  England.  The  book 
was  written  in  Latin  in  order  that  it  might  have  an  audience  not 
limited  to  any  one  language.  Naturally  to  a  European  public 
a  book  gained  in  prestige  by  coming  from  a  great  European  pub- 
lishing firm.  Moreover,  the  reasons  were  not  purely  commercial. 
At  a  time  when  the  author  could  not  correct  his  proofs,  he  was 
greatly  at  the  mercy  of  the  education  of  the  typesetter.  Conse- 
quently Erasmus  went  personally  to  Basel  to  superintend  the  pub- 
lication of  his  Jerome.  In  the  output  of  a  firm  issuing  large  num- 
bers of  similar  books,  typographical  errors  would  be  less  frequent, 
and  the  variety  of  fonts  of  type  much  greater.  A  striking  illus- 
tration of  this  is  that  the  first  words  printed  in  England  in  Greek 


264  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

characters  appear  as  late  as  1519.^  An  English  writer,  by  chance 
using  a  Greek  expression, — and  this  was  by  no  means  uncommon, — 
from  that  very  fact  was  forced  to  depend  upon  foreign  publishers. 
Yet,  whatever  deductions  may  be  made  for  books  written  by  Eng- 
lishmen and  printed  abroad,  the  contribution  of  the  early  human- 
ists to  European  scholarship  remains  singularly  small. 

The  real  explanation  of  the  apparent  steriHty  of  the  English 
humanists  however,  lies  rather  in  the  nature  of  their  humanism. 
As  has  been  said,  in  contrast  with  Italian  humanism,  in  England 
it  was  moral.  Christian  rather  than  pagan.  Greek  to  them  was 
rather  the  language  of  the  New  Testament,  than  the  language  of 
Plato.  Colet  lectures  on  the  Pauline  Epistles  and  urges  Erasmus 
to  the  publication  of  his  New  Testament.'  But  by  that  very  fact 
they  became  involved  with  the  great  movement  that  we  call  the 
Reformation.  Fortunately  the  history  of  the  Reformation  does 
not  come  within  the  scope  of  these  studies.  For  the  sake  of  its 
effect  upon  literature,  the  general  outline  of  it  may  be  given,  and 
given  as  presented  to  Charies  V  in  a  dumb  play  at  Ausburg.' 
"A  man  in  a  doctor's  dress  brought  in  a  bundle  of  sticks,  some 
straight,  some  crooked,  laid  them  on  the  hearth,  and  retired.  On 
his  back  was  written  'Reuchlin, '  Another  followed  who  tried  to 
arrange  the  sticks  side  by  side,  could  not  do  it,  grew  impatient, 
and  retired  also.  He  was  called  Erasmus.  An  Augustinian  monk 
came  next  with  a  burning  chafing-dish,  flung  the  crooked  sticks 
into  the  fire,  and  blew  into  it  to  make  it  blaze.  This  was  Luther. 
A  fourth  came  robed  as  an  emperor;  he,  seeing  the  fire  spreading, 
tried  to  put  it  out  with  his  sword,  and  made  it  flame  the  faster. 
He,  too,  went  off,  and  then  appeared  a  figure  in  pontifical  robe 
and  with  triple  crown,  who  started  at  the  sight  of  the  fire,  looked 
about,  saw  two  cans  in  the  room,  one  full  of  water  and  the  other 
of  oil,  snatched  the  oil  by  mistake,  poured  it  on,  and  raised  such 
a  blaze  that  he  fled  in  terror.  This  was  Leo  X."  In  this  con- 
temporary by-play,  it  is  to  be  noticed  that  Erasmus,  after  trying 
to  reconcile  the  parties,  gives  up  the  task  in  disgust.    It  was  just 

1  Typographical  Antiquities,  Dibdin,  Vol.  ii,  p.  181. 

*  Colet's  Enarratio  in  Epistolum  S.  Paidi  ad  Romanos  was  edited  by  the  Rev. 
J.  H.  Lupton,  1873;  the  following  year  the  same  editor  brought  out  the  Enarratio 
in  Puinam  Epistolam  S.  Pauli  ad  Corinthos. 

'  Life  and  Letters  of  Erasmus,  Froude,  p.  380. 


HUMANISM  265 

here  that  the  English  humanists  were  unable  to  follow  his  example. 
In  England  the  crisis  was  so  acute  that  they  could  not  give  it  up. 
In  spite  of  themselves  they  were  involved  and  the  intellectual 
interest  in  scholarship  was  exchanged  for  a  vital  interest  in  pol- 
itics. While  the  movement  was  still  young  and  while  it  was  still 
gaining  headway,  it  was  fated  that  persons  whose  station,  interests, 
and  philosophy  were  as  far  separated  as  the  poles  from  the  station, 
interests,  and  philosophy  of  the  Oxford  men  should  arise  to  deflect 
the  current  and  turn  it  into  an  entirely  unexpected  direction.  And 
it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  the  protagonists  of  the  political 
drama  had  any  conception  of  the  momentous  consequences  of 
their  action,  or  for  a  moment  looked  beyond  their  own  petty 
interests.  Katherine  was  nearly  six  years  older  than  Henry.  But 
the  disparity  between  them  was  greater  than  is  shown  by  their 
ages.  "Katherine's  health  had  never  been  robust;  and  at  the  age 
of  thirty-three,  after  four  confinements,  she  had  lost  her  bloom. 
Disappointment  and  suffering,  added  to  her  constitutional  weak- 
ness, was  telling  upon  her,  and  her  influence  grew  daily  smaller. 
The  gorgeous  shows  and  frivolous  amusements  in  which  her 
husband  so  much  delighted  palled  upon  her,  and  she  now  took 
little  pains  to  feign  enjoyment  in  them,  giving  up  much  of  her 
time  to  religious  exercises,  fasting  rigidly  twice  a  week  and  saints' 
days  throughout  the  year,  in  addition  to  the  Lenten  observances, 
and  wearing  beneath  her  silks  and  satins  a  rough  Franciscan  nun's 
gown  of  serge.  As  in  the  case  of  so  many  of  her  kindred,  mystical 
devotion  was  weaving  its  grey  web  about  her,  and  saintliness  of 
the  peculiar  Spanish  type  was  covering  her  as  with  a  garment. 
Henry,  on  the  contrary,  was  a  full-blooded  young  man  of  twenty- 
eight,  with  a  physique  like  that  of  a  butcher,  held  by  no  earthly 
control  or  check  upon  his  appetites,  overflowing  with  vitality  and 
the  joy  of  life;  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he  found  his 
disillusioned  and  consciously  saintly  wife  a  somewhat  uncomfort- 
able companion. "  ^  The  torch  was  applied  to  the  pile  when  three 
or  four  years  later  the  King  became  infatuated  with  Anne  Boleyn, 
sixteen  years  younger  than  his  wife.  There  was  nothing  of  course 
in  the  easy  morality  either  of  the  time  or  of  the  lady  to  prevent 
his  making  her  his  mistress.  In  fact.  Lady  Tailebois  was  the 
mother  of  the  boy  whom  he  recognized  as  Duke  of  Richmond, 
»  Wiva  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  Martin  Hume,  pp.  8&-90. 


266  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  title  borne  by  his  own  father.  Still  more  it  is  highly  probable 
that  Anne's  sister  Mary  Boleyn  had  already  enjoyed  the  dubious 
honor  of  having  been  the  King's  mistress.  What  complicated  the 
situation  was  the  King's  desire  for  a  legitimate  male  heir.  Kath- 
erine  was  the  mother  of  a  daughter  only,  Mary  Tudor,  and,  with 
the  questionable  exception  of  Matilda,  no  queen  had  ever  held 
the  English  throne  in  her  own  right.  It  may  well  have  seemed 
to  Henry,  conscious  of  the  recent  origin  of  his  own  dynasty  and 
mindful  of  the  horrors  of  civil  war,  that  a  male  heir  was  imperative. 
Divorce  was  not  uncommon  upon  such  grounds.  The  Pope  had 
granted  dispensation  to  Louis  XII  of  France  for  much  the  same 
reasons,  and  Henry's  own  brother-in-law,  Charles  Brandon,  Duke 
of  Suffolk,  had  set  aside  two  previous  marriages  before  he  mar- 
ried the  King's  sister.  On  the  other  hand,  by  1527,  Rome  had 
been  sacked  by  the  Spanish  troops,  the  Pope,  Clement  VII,  was 
terrorized  by  Charles  V,  and  Charles  was  Katherine's  nephew. 
The  result  was  long  procrastination  and  debate,  and  a  long  public 
trial  that  aroused  all  England,  until  Henry's  passion  finally  forced 
him  to  break  with  the  Papacy.  In  the  welter  and  confusion  of 
this  transition,  appeal  must  be  made  to  the  people,  not  of  Europe, 
but  of  England.  For  this  the  Latin  language  was  thrown  aside  in 
favor  of  vigorous  homely  English,  and  the  subtilties  of  intellectual 
conceptions  in  favor  of  sledge-hammer  invective. 

It  cannot  have  been  cheering  to  the  humanists  to  realize  that 
they  themselves  had  been,  to  a  measure,  the  agents  of  their  own 
downfall.  Such  a  change  in  religious  conception  as  is  involved 
in  the  denial  of  papal  supremacy,  such  a  change  in  religious  form 
as  that  involved  in  the  substitution  of  English  for  Latin,  and  such 
a  change  in  the  social  structure  as  that  involved  in  the  suppression 
of  the  monasteries  and  the  religious  orders,  could  not  be  made  in 
the  face  of  the  united  opposition  of  a  whole  people.  Henry  may 
have  been  a  "tyrant",  but  he  was  a  tyrant  without  a  standing 
army,  and  with  no  force  to  overawe  the  nation  except  that  derived 
from  the  nation  itself.  He  could  be  despotic  only  so  far  as  such 
despotism  did  not  long  run  counter  to  the  will  of  the  nation.^ 
In  modem  phrasing,  although  by  no  means  to  the  extent  of  the 
meaning  today,  Henry  was  governed  by  public  opinion.  Public 
opinion,  in  turn,  had  been  affected  by  the  humanistic  criticisms  and 
^  This  is  the  position  most  ably,  if  partially,  supported  by  Froude. 


HUMANISM  267 

theories  carried  broadcast  by  the  newly  invented  press.  An  analogy 
may  be  found  in  the  relations  of  Rousseau  to  the  French  Revolu- 
tion. That  Marat  would  have  guillotined  Rousseau,  and  Rousseau 
repudiated  Marat,  does  not  alter  the  fact  that  Rousseau's  theories 
are  precursors  to  the  Reign  of  Terror.  In  like  case,  to  call  these 
men  "Oxford  Reformers"  ^  is  misleading.  That  they  wished  re- 
form is  undoubted;  that  their  point  of  view  prepared  the  way  for 
reform  is  certain;  but  that  they  in  any  way  anticipated  or  approved 
the  cataclysmic  upheaval  that  actually  took  place  is  impossible 
to  believe.^ 

The  effect  of  humanism  upon  English  literature,  then,  is  double; 
it  may  be  divided  into  its  effect  upon  the  poetry  and  upon  the 
prose,  and  cross-divided  by  its  effect  upon  the  form  and  the  con- 
tent of  each.  As  the  importance  of  the  subject  is  more  clearly 
shown  by  the  content  of  the  prose,  that  question  will  be  first  dis- 
cussed.^ But  the  effect  of  one  civilization  upon  an  individual 
belonging  to  another  civilization  is  rather  difficult  to  analyze, 
although  not  to  appreciate.  To  an  American,  the  value  of  a 
European  sojourn  is  not  that,  on  his  return,  he  has  seen  Europe, 
but  rather  that  he  sees  America  from  a  fresh  point  of  view.  His 
visit  has  given  him  a,  basis  for  comparison.  Intellectually,  it  has 
stimulated  him  to  more  careful  consideration  of  familiar  condi- 
tions. For  such  a  consideration  of  Christian  civilization  the 
value  of  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  literatures  and 
life  of  Greece  and  Rome  is  at  once  obvious.  To  the  sixteenth 
century  reader  they  presented  the  spectacle  of  civilizations 
more  advanced  than  his  own,  yet  antithetical  in  almost  every 
particular.  He  returned,  therefore,  from  his  mental  journey  with 
a  consciousness  of  the  advantages  and  the  disadvantages  of 
his  own  epoch. 

In  the  little  group  of  humanists  that  we  are  discussing  you  find 
the  intellect  burning  at  white  heat.  Of  them  by  far  the  best 
known, — in  fact  the  only  one  known  to  the  modern  reader, — is 
Sir  Thomas  More.  For  this  condition  many  reasons  combine. 
His  life,  so  rarely  beautiful  that  in  1886  he  was  beatified  by  Roman 

*  The  Oxford  Reformers  of  1498  by  Frederic  Seebohm,  1867,  is  a  standard  study  of 
Colet,  Erasmus,  and  More. 

*  The  Eve  of  the  Ileformalion,  F.  A.  Gasquet,  p.  7. 

'  The  effect  of  humanism  upon  the  form  of  prose  is  reserved  for  a  later  study. 


in 


268  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Curia,  quickly  passed  into  a  legend.    The  contemporary  belief 
his  justice  as  Chancellor  is  preserved  in  the  rhyme : 

When  More  sometime  has  Chancellor  been 
No  more  suits  did  remain; 
,  The  like  will  never  more  be  seen 

Till  More  be  there  again. 

It  was  largely  upon  his  reputation  that  Rastell  later  popularized 
the  traditional  hump-back  of  Richard  the  Third.  With  Skelton, 
he  is  one  of  the  figures  to  bolster  up  the  tale  of  Long  Meg  of  West- 
minster. The  tragedy  of  his  death,  personified  in  his  daughter 
Margaret  Roper,  still  haunted  Tennyson : 

Mom  broaden'd  on  the  borders  of  the  dark. 

Ere  I  saw  her,  who  clasp'd  in  her  last  trance 
Her  murder'd  father's  head.^ 

In  truth,  as  one  sees  him  through  the  eyes  of  his  son-in-law,  his 
life  was  so  perfect  and  his  death  so  pitiful,  that  all  men  of  all  creeds 
must  rise  up  to  call  him  "blessed ".  What  such  a  man  wrote  should 
theoretically  have  a  wide  appeal!  Then  another  reason  for  his 
renown  is  the  comparative  lack  of  work  of  the  other  members  of 
the  group.  The  result  is  that,  while  the  rest  are  known  to  scholars. 
Sir  Thomas  More  is  known  to  the  world. 

The  previous  remarks  on  the  effect  of  the  Reformation  on  Eng- 
lish humanism  find  illustration  in  the  literary  work  of  More.  That 
may  be  divided  sharply  into  two  classes;  that  written  under  the 
humanistic  impulse  in  Latin,  and  that  written  in  English.  As  a 
humanist,  he  was  brilliant,  broad-minded,  and  tolerant;  writing  in 
the  vernacular  the  same  man  shows  himself  retrogressive,  and 
almost  insensible  to  the  new  forces  raging  around  him,  a  vigor- 
ous and  scurrilous  opponent  of  Luther  and  Tyndale,  a  determined 
partisan  anxious  only  to  preserve  that  status  quo.  The  tracts, 
containing  acute  reasoning  and  clever  invective,  are  yet  without 
form,  hopelessly  voluble  and  digressive.  The  Utopia  on  the  other 
hand  is  brilliantly  compressed,  with  the  parts  definitely  related 
to  the  whole,  and  to  each  other.  The  execution,  as  well  as  the  con- 
ception, is  masterly.  It  may  well  be  with  the  works  of  More  in 
mind  that  in  the  next  generation  Ascham  wrgte:  ^ 

'  Dream  of  Fair  Women. 

'  The  English  Works  of  Roger  Ascham,  by  James  Bennet,  p.  57. 


HUMANISM  269 

And  as  for  the  Latine  or  Greeke  tongue,  everye  thinge  is  so  excellentlye  done 
in  them,  that  none  can  do  better:  In  the  Englishe  tongue,  contrary,  everye  thinge  in 
a  maner  so  meanlye  both  for  the  matter  and  the  handelinge,  that  no  man  can  do 
worse. 

The  natural  result,  which  yet  seems  contradictory,  is  that,  whereas 
the  English  works  in  English  are  unknown,  that  in  Latin  is  famil- 
iar to  the  entire  English  speaking  race.  This  statement  is  so  para- 
doxical that  figures  are  needed  to  justify  it.  Although  two  vol- 
umes of  selections  from  the  English  works  were  published  during 
the  nineteenth  century  and,  since  1800  there  have  been  seven 
separate  pieces,  usually  published  for  learned  societies,  the  first 
edition  of  the  completed  works,  that  of  1557,  is  yet  the  last.  Of 
the  Utopia  within  the  twenty  years  1890-1910,  twenty  issues  have 
been  made  in  the  Latin  and  the  various  English  versions.^  In 
fairness  it  must  be  added  that  in  some  editions  of  the  Utopia  the 
Dialogue  of  Comfort  against  Tribulation  is  included.  With  all  de- 
ductions made,  however,  the  fact  remains  sufficiently  striking. 
As  a  writer  of  English,  More  may  be  ignored;  it  is  only  as  a  hu- 
manist that  he  is  a  world-figure. 

It  is  on  the  humanistic  side  that  More's  work  needs  here  to  be 
considered.^  The  origin  of  Utopia  is  definitely  known.  While 
More  was  on  an  embassy  in  Antwerp,  staying  at  the  home  of 
Peter  Giles,  a  friend  of  Erasmus,  he  amused  himself  by  planning 
an  ideal  community.  The  Second  Book,  the  one  describing  the 
conditions  in  Utopia  was  written  first.  On  his  return  to  England 
he  wrote  the  First  Book,  dealing  with  English  conditions,  to  lead 
up  to  and  prepare  for  the  Second.  The  reader,  therefore,  reverses 
the  order  in  which  the  ideas  were  conceived.  The  Second  Book  is 
primarily  creative,  and  the  First  Book  primarily  critical.  The 
whole  is  set  in  the  framework  of  an  imaginary  conversation  held 
in  the  garden  of  Peter  Giles.  By  this  means  the  author,  disp>ens- 
ing  with  any  formal  arrangement,  is  at  liberty  to  treat  the  various 
topics  in  any  order  he  chooses,  without  connection  between  them. 
The  Second  Book  consists  of  a  number  of  essays  dealing  with  con- 
ditions in  an  ideal  community,  each  clearly  marked  by  a  separate 
title,  De  Magistratilms,  De  Artijiciis,  etc.     The  ideas  contained 

'  For  these  figures  I  have  used  the  Bibliography  io  the  Utopia,  edited  by  George 
Sampson,  1910. 

*  More  as  a  writer  of  English  prose  will  be  discussed  later. 


270  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

in  these  essays  are  not  always  consistent.  For  example,  the  point 
is  made  that,  because  there  is  no  parasitic  class,  the  total  work  of 
the  commonwealth  is  accomplished  with  the  minimum  amount 
of  labor  of  six  hours  per  day  per  man.  Later  on,  however,  the 
reader  finds  two  classes  of  bondsmen  who  are  forced  to  labor  much 
in  excess  of  this  amount.^  More  himself  never  co-ordinated  these 
separate  conceptions.  His  aim  is  not  to  present  a  carefully  thought- 
out  social  system;  it  is  rather  a  series  of  reflections  on  the  various 
component  parts  of  a  state. 

The  fundamental,  and  (to  the  sixteenth  century)  revolutionary 
conception  is  that  the  state  is  the  creation  of  the  individuals  and 
exists  for  their  benefit.  And  the  individuals  are  all  equal.  In  a 
modem  state,  the  ideal  of  equality  is  destroyed  by  the  universal 
desire  for  property  and  the  consequent  respect  paid  to  those  pos- 
sessing it.  According  to  More,  the  solution  for  the  present  problem 
is  to  strike  at  the  root  of  the  matter,  the  love  of  money. ^ 

Thus  I  doe  fuUye  persuade  me  selfe,  that  no  equall  and  juste  distribution  of 
thinges  can  be  made,  nor  that  perfecte  wealthe  shall  ever  be  among  men,  onles  this 
propriety  (private  ownership)  be  exiled  and  bannished.  But  so  long  as  it  shal  con- 
tinew,  so  long  shal  remaine  among  the  most  and  best  part  of  men  the  hevy,  and 
inevitable  burden  of  poverty  and  wretchednes.  Whiche,  as  I  graunte  that  it  maye 
be  sumwhat  eased,  so  I  utterly  denye  that  it  can  wholy  be  taken  away.  For  if  there 
were  a  statute  made,  that  no  man  should  possesse  above  a  certeine  measure  of 
grounde,  and  that  no  man  shoulde  have  in  his  stocke  above  a  prescripte  and  ap- 
pointed some  of  money:  if  it  were  by  certein  lawes  decreed,  that  neither  the  King 
shoulde  be  of  to  greate  power,  neither  the  people  to  haute  and  wealthy,  and  that 
oflSces  shoulde  not  be  obteined  by  inordinate  suite,  or  by  brybes  and  gyftes:  that 
they  shoulde  neither  be  bought  nor  sold,  nor  that  it  shoulde  be  nedeful  for  the 
officers,  to  be  at  any  cost  or  charge  in  their  oflSces:  for  so  occasion  is  geven  to  theym 
by  fraude  and  ravin  to  gather  up  their  money  againe,  and  by  reason  of  giftes  and 
bribes  the  offices  be  geven  to  rich  men,  which  shoulde  rather  have  bene  executed 
of  wise  men:  by  such  lawes  I  say,  like  as  sicke  bodies  that  be  desperat  and  past  cure, 
be  wont  with  continual  good  cherissing  te  be  kept  and  botched  up  for  a  time:  so 
these  evels  also  might  be  lightened  and  mitigated.  But  that  thei  may  be  perfectly 
cured,  and  brought  to  a  good  and  upryght  state,  it  is  not  to  be  hoped  for,  whiles 
every  man  is  maister  of  his  owne  to  him  selfe. 

^  The  stringency  of  the  laws  in  the  sixteenth  century  and  the  social  conditions, 
which  are  discussed  in  the  First  Book  of  the  Utopia,  made  a  large  criminal  class. 
Cf.  Chapter  I. 

'  The  quotation  is  taken  from  Ralph  Robison's  translation  (1551),  since  it  is  the 
version  familiar  to  the  modem  public.  Yet  I  do  so  somewhat  unwillingly  because 
the  quaintness  of  the  phrase  and  the  individuality  of  the  spelling  by  no  means  render 
to  the  modem  ear  the  effect  of  More's  Latin. 


HUMANISM  271 

Consequently  in  the  ideal  republic  there  are  no  property  rights; 
the  houses  are  all  owned  in  common;  the  food  is  stored  in  common 
storehouses,  and  served  in  common  dining-halls;  and  even  the 
children,  who  in  the  sixteenth  century  were  regarded  as  property, 
are  brought  up  by  the  state.  The  Utopians  have  literally  no  use 
for  money.  Their  clothes,  taken  from  the  common  stock,  are 
chosen  simply  with  regard  to  convenience.  Gold  and  jewels,  the  in- 
signia of  wealth  and  station  elsewhere,  are  there  treated  with  con- 
tempt. To  confirm  the  public  in  this  opinion,  golden  chains  are 
associated  with  marks  of  degradation  and  jewels  are  the  play- 
things of  children.  They  are  used,  however,  to  hire  mercenaries 
for  war,  since  the  Utopians  do  not  fight  their  own  battles.  In 
their  philosophy  they  are  hedonists,  but,  as  each  member  of  a  com- 
munity can  enjoy  the  highest  pleasure  only  when  every  other  mem- 
ber of  that  community  is  equally  satisfied,  the  result  is  the  practice 
of  the  golden  rule.  As  the  working  day  is  only  six  hours,  the  great 
amount  of  leisure  is  used  in  attending  lectures  and  is  devoted  to 
general  cultivation,  although  curiously  enough,  aside  from  music, 
there  is  no  appreciation  for  art  in  Utopia.  Thus  the  abstraction, 
the  state,  called  into  being  by  the  individuals,  assumes  a  paternal 
attitude,  regulates  their  working  and  their  leisure  hours,  controls 
their  marriages  and  their  offspring,  and  directs  each  detail,  not 
only  of  public  but  also  of  private  life. 

Such  in  brief  outline  are  the  main  positions  of  More's  famous 
book.  Numberless  volumes  have  been  written  discussing  it  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  philosophy  of  the  state.  From  this  point 
of  view  criticism  is  easy. 

It  is  also  irrelevant  in  the  present  discussion.  The  value  of  the 
book  does  not  lie  in  those  schemes  which  have  bred  the  adjective 
"Utopian",  but  rather  in  the  still  larger  number  of  ideas  that  in 
the  progress  of  the  years  have  been  realized.  To  say  "There  is 
hardly  a  scheme  of  social  or  political  reform  that  has  been  enunci- 
ated in  later  epochs  of  which  there  is  no  definite  adumbration  in 
More's  pages"  ^  is  expressing  it  too  broadly.  Yet  it  is  true  that  in 
very  many  ways  More  has  anticipated  modern  movements  by 
years  and  by  centuries.  The  description  of  Amaurote,  suggest- 
ively paralleled  to  London  in  the  marginal  note,  is  curiously  mod- 
em. The  provision  for  wide  streets,  careful  sanitation,  public 
'  Oreat  EnglUhmen  oj  the  Sixteenth  Century,  Sidney  Lee,  1904,  p.  33. 


«72  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

hospitals,  slaughter-houses,  without  the  city  limits,  the  stressing 
of  gardens  both  for  light  and  air,  and  also  for  fruit,  the  glass  in  the 
windows,  the  fire-proofing  of  the  roofs,  etc.  etc.  had  Httle  reality 
in  the  London  of  1516.^  Nor  is  the  modernity  confined  to  the 
merely  physical.  Social  conceptions,  unrealized  for  centuries 
appear  in  these  pages.  More  argues  that  criminality  is  usually 
the  effect  of  environment,  and  that,  therefore,  the  boy  should  be 
carefully  guarded;  that  capital  punishment  for  theft  is  illogical, 
that  the  prisoner  should  be  reformed,  not  killed,^  and  advocates  a 
"trusty"  plan;  and  that  marriages  should  be  conducted  upon 
eugenic  principles.  The  most  famous  anticipation  of  present  con- 
ceptions is,  however,  the  passage  wherein  is  advocated  religious 
toleration. 

There  be  divers  kindes  of  religion  not  only  in  sondrie  partes  of  the  Ilande,  but  also 
in  divers  places  of  every  citie.  .  .  .  He  as  soone  as  he  was  baptised,  began  against 
our  willes,  with  more  earneste  affection,  then  wisedome,  to  reason  of  Christes 
religion:  and  began  to  waxe  so  hote  in  his  matter,  that  he  did  not  onlye  preferre  our 
reU^on  before  al  other,  but  also  did  utterly  despise  and  condempne  all  other,  calling 
the  prophane,  and  the  folowers  of  them  wicked  and  develish,  and  the  children  of 
everlastinge  dampnation.  When  he  had  thus  longe  reasoned  the  matter,  they 
laide  holde  on  him,  accused  him  and  condempned  him  into  exile,  not  as  a  despiser  of 
religion,  but  as  a  sedicious  person  and  a  raiser  up  of  dissention  amonge  the  people. 
For  this  is  one  of  the  auncientest  lawes  amonge  them :  that  no  man  shall  be  blamed 
for  resoninge  in  the  maintenaunce  of  his  owne  religion. 

Today  such  a  passage  is  read  without  comment.  To  understand 
even  vaguely  the  astounding  fact  that  it  was  published  in  1516,  it 
must  be  remembered  that  only  twenty -four  years  before  the  Jews 
had  been  expelled  from  Spain.  The  results  of  that  expulsion  can 
be  best  given  in  Symonds'  words:  ^ 

Vainly  did  the  persecuted  race  endeavour  to  purchase  a  remission  of  the  sentence 
by  the  payment  of  an  exorbitant  ransom.  Torquemada  appeared  before  Ferdinand 
and  his  consort,  raising  the  crucifix,  and  crying:  "Judas  sold  Christ  for  30  pieces  of 
silver;  sell  ye  him  for  a  larger  sum,  and  account  for  the  same  to  God! "  The  exodus 
began.  Eight  hundred  thousand  Jews  left  Spain — some  for  the  coast  of  Africa, 
where  the  Arabs  ripped  their  bodies  up  in  the  search  for  gems  or  gold  they  might 
have  swallowed,  and  deflowered  their  women — some  for  Portugal,  where  they 
bought  the  right  to  exist  for  a  large  head-tax,  and  where  they  saw  their  sons  and 

'  For  comparison  the  reader  is  referred  to  p.  25  of  the  present  work. 
*  Until  1827  certain  forms  of  theft  in  England  were  punished  by  death. 
'  Renaissance  in  Italy,  J.  A.  Symonds,  Vol.  1  {Age  of  Despots)  313-314. 


HUMANISM  273 

daughters  dragged  away  to  baptism  before  their  eyes.  Others  were  sold  as  slaves,  or 
had  to  satisfy  the  rapacity  of  their  persecutors  with  the  bodies  of  their  children. 
Many  flung  themselves  into  the  wells,  and  sought  to  bury  despair  in  suicide.  The 
Mediterranean  was  covered  with  famine-stricken  and  plague-breeding  fleets  of 
exiles.  Putting  into  the  port  of  Genoa,  they  were  refused  leave  to  reside  in  the 
city,  and  died  by  hundreds  in  the  harbour.  Their  festering  bodies  bred  a  pestilence 
along  the  whole  Italian  sea-board,  of  which  at  Naples  alone  20,000  persons  died. 
Flitting  from  shore  to  shore,  these  forlorn  spectres,  the  victims  of  bigotry  and 
avarice,  everywhere  pillaged  and  everywhere  rejected,  dwindled  away  and  disap- 
peared. Meanwhile  the  orthodox  rejoiced.  Pico  della  Mirandola,  who  spent  his 
life  in  reconciling  Plato  with  the  Cabala,  finds  nothing  more  to  say  than  this:  "The 
sufferings  of  the  Jews,  in  which  the  glory  of  the  Divine  justice  delighted,  were  so 
extreme  as  to  fill  us  Christians  with  commiseration."  With  these  words  we  may 
compare  the  following  passage  from  Senarega:  "The  matter  at  first  sight  seemed 
praiseworthy,  as  regarding  the  honour  done  to  our  religion;  yet  it  involved  some 
amount  of  cruelty,  if  we  look  upon  them,  not  as  beasts,  but  as  men,  the  handiwork  of 
God."  A  critic  of  this  century  can  only  exclaim  with  stupefaction:  Tantum  rdigio 
potuit  guadere  malorumt 

And  fifty-six  years  after  More  had  written  this  passage  occurred 
the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew;  the  Spanish  Inquisition;  the  fires 
of  Smithfield;  the  German  wars; — and  this  passage  was  printed 
in  1516! 

In  trying  to  explain  the  mere  fact  of  the  existence  of  such  a 
book  as  the  Utopia  at  such  a  time,  there  is  one  tendency  to  be 
guarded  against.  We,  with  the  accumulated  experience  of  the 
past  four  hundred  years,  read  into  the  sentences  vastly  more  than 
the  author  intended.  Ideas  that  to  More's  mind  were  very  nebu- 
lous and  undefined,  to  us  are  perfectly  clear  cut.  This  may  be 
most  conveniently  illustrated  by  a  trifling  detail.  To  show  the 
advanced  state  among  the  Utopians  we  are  told : 

They  brynge  up  a  greate  multitude  of  puUeyne,  and  that  by  a  mervaylouse 
policye.  For  the  hennes  dooe  not  sytte  upon  the  egges:  but  by  keepynge  theym  in  a 
certayne  equall  heate  they  brynge  lyfe  into  them,  and  hatche  theym.  The  chykens, 
as  aone  as  they  be  come  oute  of  the  shel,  follow  men  and  women  in  steade  of  the 
hennes. 

But  incubators  were  not  made  practical  until  1870!  On  the  other 
hand  artificial  incubation  was  practised  by  the  ancient  Egyptians, 
and  preser\'ed  as  a  secret.  More,  reading  an  account  of  their  re- 
sults in  some  classic  author,  merely  adopted  it  for  the  benefit  of 
his  Utopians,  without,  however,  having  a  clear  conception  of  how 
it  was  done.    But  to  the  modem  reader,  perfectly  familiar  with  all 


«74  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  mechanical  details  of  artificial  incubation,  More's  words  seem 
to  imply  an  equal  familiarity.  In  the  same  way,  the  assumption 
that  in  many  cases  of  his  uncanny  fore-knowledge  he  either  knew 
how  to  bring  about  the  desired  conditions,  or  what  would  be  the 
result  if  brought  about,  is  incredible. 

Yet,  granting  that  we  today  read  more  than  the  author  wrote, 
the  essential  modernity,  the  very  possibility  that  we  can  read 
more  than  was  intended,  is  remarkable.  The  reason  for  it,  how- 
ever, is  obvious.  The  Utopia  is  the  result  of  wide  reading  in  classic 
authors.  The  whole  conception  was  suggested  by  the  Republic 
of  Plato,  and  by  occasional  marginal  notes  the  reader  is  referred 
back  to  him.  Yet  it  is  by  no  means  copied  from  Plato.  The 
various  opinions  are  gathered  from  almost  the  whole  range  of 
classic  literature.  It  is  not  of  much  value  to  endeavor  to  trace 
back  any  detail  to  its  peculiar  source.^  Usually  the  idea  expressed 
is  a  modification  of,  and  sometimes  a  reaction  from,  the  possible 
original.  This  is  but  another  way  of  saying  that  More's  mind  had 
assimilated  and  made  its  own  the  product  of  the  past.  And  that, 
also,  is  the  condition  of  modern  culture.  The  similarity  between 
many  of  More's  ideas  and  those  of  the  man  of  today  is  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  roots  of  both  reach  down  into  the  same  past.  The 
Utopia  is  a  striking  example  of  the  advantages  of  a  classical  edu- 
cation as  expounded  by  Newman.  The  unique  position  of  the 
early  Tudor  humanists  is  due  to  the  fact  that  they  put  into  practice 
Newman's  arguments  four  hundred  years  ago. 

But  if  the  Second  Book  of  the  Utopia  be  remarkable  for  its 
creative  ability,  the  First  is  no  less  so  for  its  analysis  of  the  eco- 
nomic conditions  of  sixteenth  century  England.  This  is  introduced 
to  prepare  by  contrast  for  the  Second  Book.  It  purports  to  be  an 
abstract  of  a  discussion  held  at  the  palace  of  Cardinal  Morton, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  Lord  Chancellor  of  Henry  VII. 
The  question  was  propounded  why,  in  spite  of  the  severity  of  the 
laws,  there  are  so  many  thieves.  The  answer  is;  first,  that  there 
is  a  portion  of  the  population  whose  means  of  livelihood  are  so 
uncertain  that  in  self-defense  they  may  become  beggars,  namely 
old  retainers  and  soldiers;  secondly,  that  there  is  a  desire  for 
illicit  pleasures;  and  thirdly,  that,  because  farms  have  been  turned 

*  In  Platonismua  in  der  englischen  Renaissance  (Berlin,  1907)  Kurt  Schroeder  tries 
to  dq^ne  the  exact  influence  of  Plato  upon  More. 


HUMANISM  275 

into  pasturage  on  account  of  the  profit  to  be  made  in  wool,  many 
of  the  farm-laborers  have  been  turned  adrift.  The  result  of  this 
last  is  an  increase  in  price  of  food-stuffs,  on  account  of  the  lessened 
production  although,  owing  to  a  corner  in  wool,  the  price  on  that 
has  not  decreased.  For  these,  by  implication,  the  king  is  not 
responsible,  but  his  councillors.  Those,  who  advise  debasing  the 
coinage,  the  revival  of  obsolete  laws  for  taxation,  and  the  selling 
of  privileges  in  order  to  enable  the  king  to  accumulate  treasure,^ 
are  harmful  since  his  "honoure  and  safetye  is  more  and  rather 
supported  and  upholden  by  the  wealth  and  ryches  of  his  people, 
then  by  his  owne  treasures."  For  the  good  king  is  the  shepherd 
of  his  p)eople. 

Let  him  lyve  of  hys  owne,  hurtinge  no  man.  .  .  .  Let  him  restreyne  wyckednes. 
Let  him  prevente  vices,  and  take  awaye  the  occasions  of  ofiFenses  by  well  orderynge 
hys  subjectes,  and  not  by  sufferynge  wickednes  to  increase  afterward  to  be  pun- 
yshed.  Let  hym  not  be  to  hastie  in  callynge  agayne  lawes,  whyche  a  custome  hathe 
abrogated:  specially  suche  as  have  bene  longe  forgotten,  and  never  lacked  nor 
neaded.  And  let  hym  never  under  the  cloke  and  pretence  of  transgression  take 
suche  fynes  and  forfaytes,  as  no  Judge  wyll  suffre  a  private  persone  to  take,  as 
unjuste  and  ful  of  gile. 

This  conception  of  a  limited  monarchy  and  of  the  responsibility 
of  the  king,  "that  the  comminaltie  chueseth  their  king  for  their 
owne  sake  and  not  for  his, "  would  have  kept  the  head  of  Charles  I 
upon  his  shoulders,  and,  in  the  person  of  James  II,  have  preserved 
the  throne  to  the  Stuarts.  To  one  interested  in  the  condition  of 
England  in  the  early  sixteenth  century  the  First  Book  of  the 
Utopia  may  be  recommended  for  careful  study. 

That  humanism  by  sheer  effort  of  the  intellect  lifted  itself 
out  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  its  greatest  triumph;  it  is  also  its 
greatest  failure.  The  trouble  is  that  it  is  nothing  but  sheer 
intellectualism.  Apparently  the  thoughts  and  the  lives  of  these 
men  moved  on  separate  planes.  As  humanists  they  were  willing 
to  follow  any  position  to  its  logical  sequence.  The  anecdote,  pre- 
served by  Froude  as  a  "Chelsea  tradition,"  ^  will  illustrate  this. 

*  By  More's  contemporaries  this  must  have  been  interpreted  as  a  criticism  of 
the  well-known  avarice  of  Henry  VIL     P.  52  of  this  work. 

'  Froude,  ibid,  p.  109.  This  "  tradition  "  must  consist  only  in  applying  the  tale 
to  More  and  Erasmus  since  the  tale  itself  is  to  be  found  in  the  Jests  of  Scogin, 
Shakespeare  Jeat-Books,  ed.  W.  Carew  Ilazlitt,  95.  Here  the  anecdote  is  in  Eng- 
lish prose. 


276  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

According  to  the  tale,  Erasmus  having  borrowed  a  horse  of  More, 
instead  of  returning  it  sent  the  following  lines. 

Quod  mihi  dixisti 

De  corpore  Christi 

Crede  quod  edas  et  edia; 

Sic  tibi  rescribo 

De  tuo  palfrido 

Crede  quod  habeas  et  habes. 

If  there  be  any  truth  in  the  tradition,  it  shows  to  what  extent  both 
the  love  of  a  joke  and  intellectual  toleration  could  be  carried! 
Even  the  mysteries  of  the  Mass  were  subjects  for  discussion.  It 
was  not  objective  truth,  so  much  as  mental  exercise  that  More 
sought.     It  is  this  that  Erasmus  emphasizes:^ 

The  history  of  his  connection  with  me  was  this.  In  his  early  life  he  was  a  ver- 
sifier, and  he  came  to  me  to  improve  his  style.  Since  that  time  he  has  written  a 
good  deal.  He  has  written  a  dialogue  defending  Plato's  community  of  wives.  He 
has  answered  Lucian's  "Tyrannicida."  He  wanted  me  to  take  the  other  side,  that 
he  might  better  test  his  skill.  His  "Utopia"  was  written  to  indicate  the  dangers 
which  threatened  the  English  commonwealth.  The  second  part  was  written  first. 
The  other  was  added  afterwards.  You  can  trace  a  difiference  in  the  style.  He  has  a 
fine  intellect  and  an  excellent  memory;  information  all  arranged  and  pigeon-holed 
to  be  ready  for  use.  He  is  so  ready  in  argument  that  he  can  puzzle  the  best  divines 
on  their  own  subjects.  Colet,  a  good  judge  on  such  points,  says  More  has  more 
genius  than  any  man  in  England. 

That  More  personally  believed  in  a  "community  of  wives"  is 
grotesque;  his  defense  of  it  was  valued  as  an  example  of  mental 
agiHty.  So  the  Utopia  is  a  collection  of  conceptions,  some  positive 
and  some  negative.    For  example,  he  tells  us  of  Utopian  education : 

But  as  they  in  all  thinges  be  almoste  equal  to  oure  olde  auncyente  clerkes,  so 
oure  newe  Logiciens  in  subtyl  inventions  have  farre  passed  and  gone  beyonde  them. 
For  they  have  not  devysed  one  of  all  those  rules  of  restrictions,  amplifications,  and 
suppositions  verye  wittelye  invented  in  the  small  Logicalles,  whyche  heare  oure 
children  in  every  place  do  leame.  Furtheremore  they  were  never  yet  hable  to 
fynde  out  the  seconde  intentions:  insomuche  that  none  of  them  all  coulde  ever  see 
man  himselfe  in  commen,  as  they  cal  him,  thoughe  he  be  (as  you  knowe)  bygger 
than  ever  was  annye  gyaunte,  yea  and  poynted  to  of  us  even  wyth  our  finger. 

Here  he  is  obviously  merely  laughing  at  medieval  logic  with  its 
infinite  refinements,  and  at  the  doctrine  of  the  realists.    But  there 

^  Erasmus  to  Hutten.;  abridged  by  Froude,  p.  107. 


HUMANISM  277 

is  no  attack  here.  If  it  were  written  to  "  indicate  the  dangers  which 
threatened  the  EngUsh  commonwealth,"  that  was  a  bye-product. 
Its  aim  was  to  aflFord  the  opportunity  for  pleasant  speculation. 
It  is  a  dream,  and  considering  it  as  a  dream  he  thus  comments 
upon  its  success  in  a  letter  to  Erasmus:  ^ 

Master  Tunstall  has  lately  sent  me  a  letter  full  of  the  most  friendly  feeling;  his 
judgment  about  our  Republic,  so  frank,  so  complimentary,  has  given  me  more 
pleasure  than  an  Attic  talent!  You  have  no  idea  how  I  jump  for  joy,  how  tall  I  have 
grown,  how  I  hold  up  my  head,  when  a  vision  comes  before  my  eyes,  that  my  Uto- 
pians have  made  me  their  perpetual  sovereign,  I  seem  already  to  be  marching 
along,  crowned  with  a  diadem  of  wheat,  conspicuous  in  a  Greyfriar's  cloak,  and 
carrying  for  a  sceptre  a  few  ears  of  com,  surrounded  by  a  noble  company  of  Amau- 
rotians;  and  with  this  numerous  attendance  meeting  the  ambassadors  and  princes  of 
other  nations, — poor  creatures  in  comparison  with  us,  inasmuch  as  they  pride  them- 
selves on  coming  out,  loaded  with  puerile  ornaments  and  womanish  finery,  bound 
with  chains  of  that  hateful  gold,  and  ridiculous  with  purple  and  gems  and  other 
bubbly  trifles.  But  I  would  not  have  either  you  or  Tunstall  form  an  estimate  of  me 
from  the  character  of  others,  whose  behaviour  changes  with  their  fortune.  Even 
though  it  has  pleased  Heaven  to  raise  our  humility  to  that  sublime  elevation,  with 
which  no  kingdom  can  in  my  judgment  be  compared,  you  shall  never  find  me 
unmindful  of  that  old  familiarity,  which  has  subsisted  between  us  while  I  have 
been  in  a  private  station;  and  if  you  take  the  trouble  to  make  so  small  a  journey  as 
to  visit  me  in  Utopia,  I  will  eflfectually  provide,  that  all  the  mortals  who  are  sub- 
ject to  our  clemency,  shall  show  you  that  honour,  which  they  owe  to  those  whom 
they  know  to  be  dearest  to  their  sovereign.  I  was  proceeding  further  with  this  most 
delightful  dream,  when  the  break  of  day  dispersed  the  vision,  deposing  poor  me 
from  my  sovereignty,  and  recalling  me  to  prison,  that  is,  to  my  legal  work.  Never- 
theless I  console  myself  with  the  reflection,  that  real  kingdoms  are  not  much  more 
lasting. 

It  is  with  this  idea  of  game  that  the  book  is  furnished  with  the 
elaborate  epistles;  the  request  of  the  Vicar  of  Croydon  to  be  allowed 
to  be  appointed  first  bishop  to  Utopia;  the  imaginary  alphabet; 
and  the  "windy"  verses  of  the  Anemolius  poet  laureate.  That, 
in  such  an  era  of  discovery,  when  Columbus'  voyages  were  still 
remembered,  and  the  Cabots  were  still  sailing,  it  may  have  fooled 
some,  would  but  lend  spice  to  the  jest.  To  the  learned,  the  Greek 
names  would  be  intelligible,  and  it  was  for  the  learned  that  it  was 
written.    To  More  and  to  them  all  it  was  clever  fooling. 

»  The  EpitiUs  of  Erasmiu,  Francis  Morgan  Nichols,  Vol.  2,  p.  442-443.  The 
same  point  of  view  is  also  given  in  Erasmus'  letter  to  Whitford,  Vol.  1,  p.  406. 
But  from  F)raamus'  correspondence  innumerubie  examples  might  be  cited  to  show 
that,  to  gain  suppleness  of  mind,  the  humanists  resorted  to  such  mental  exercise. 


278  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

That  some  of  his  jests  struck  near  the  truth  cannot  be  denied, 
yet  to  insist  upon  reading  his  theories  into  his  Ufe  is  illogical.  It 
is  to  accuse  him  of  inconsistency,  because,  in  the  letter  quoted 
above,  he  speaks  of  "chains  of  that  hateful  gold, "  whereas  Holbein 
paints  him  wearing  a  heavy  chain  of  that  same  abominable  metal. 
Consequently  the  intellectual  conceptions  expounded  in  the  Utopia 
apparently  did  not  affect  More's  practical  workaday  life.  In  that, 
he  argues  for  religious  toleration;  actually  he  hated  heretics.  In 
his  epitaph,  written  by  himself,  he  tells  us  so.  Whether  this  hatred 
took  the  form  of  actual  torture,  and  to  what  extent,  are  questions 
beside  the  mark.  The  apparent  paradox  remains.  The  man  that 
argues  for  perfect  equality  and  abstract  justice  was  in  life  content 
to  accept  the  status  quo.  Still  more,  he  that  pleads  for  sweetness 
and  light  narrowly  escaped  the  extremes  of  asceticism,  and  ac- 
tually wore  the  penitential  haircloth  shirt.  Between  these  two 
aspects  of  More's  character  there  is  this  apparently  irreconcilable 
antagonism.  On  one  side  he  is  dominantly  medieval;  on  the  other 
he  is  a  protagonist  of  the  Renaissance.  In  More,  the  two  currents 
of  the  sixteenth  century  are  clearly  visible;  influenced  by  human- 
ism, he  conceives  a  Utopia;  influenced  by  medieval  tradition,  he 
sacrifices  himself  for  papal  supremacy,  and  his  life  closes  with  the 
tragedy  of  Tower  Hill.  But  of  the  two  it  is  the  mystical,  medieval, 
conservative  element  that  dominates.  Considered  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  Utopia,  the  indignation  that  thriUed  Europe  at  the 
news  of  his  death  is  comprehensible  to  every  modern  reader;  con- 
sidered from  the  point  of  view  of  the  English  works,  equally 
comprehensible  is  the  logical  necessity  for  that  sacrifice.  The 
essential  unreality  of  Tudor  humanism,  veneering  rather  than 
showing  the  grain,  however  lovely  in  itself,  is  the  explanation  of 
the  paradox.^ 

From  such  reasoning  as  this  it  follows  that  the  chief  figure  of 
English  humanism  is  not  an  Englishman.    The  center  of  the  stage 

^  That  the  same  paradox  was  felt  even  by  his  contemp>oraries  is  witnessed  by 
Hall  in  his  comment  upon  his  execution;  (Henry  VIII  by  Edward  Hall,  edited  by 
Charles  Whibley,  Vol.  ii,  p.  265)  "I  cannot  tell  whether  I  shoulde  call  him  a 
foolishe  wyseman,  or  a  wise  foolishman,  for  undoubtedly  he  beside  his  leamyng, 
had  a  great  witte,  but  it  was  so  myngled  with  tauntyng  and  mockyng,  that  it  seemed 
to  them  that  best  knew  him,  that  he  thought  nothing  to  be  wel  spoken  except  he 
had  ministred  some  mocke  in  the  communicacion." 


HUMANISM  279 

is  occupied  by  the  cosmopolitan  Erasmus.^  And  no  man  ever 
better  deserved  the  adjective.  Although  born  in  Holland,  his 
patriotism  is  nil.  When  it  was  suggested  by  his  friend,  the  Abbot 
of  Steyn,  that  he  live  there,  he  emphatically  refused;  ^ 

You  wish  me  to  fix  upon  a  permanent  residence;  a  course  also  suggested  by  ad- 
vancing age.  And  yet  the  wanderings  of  Solon  and  Pythagoras  and  Plato  are  com- 
mended. The  Apostles  were  wanderers,  especially  Paul.  St.  Jerome,  monk  as  he 
was,  is  now  found  at  Rome,  now  in  Syria,  now  in  Africa  or  elsewhere,  and  in  old 
age  is  still  pursuing  sacred  Letters.  I  am  not  to  be  compared  with  him,  I  admit; 
but  I  have  never  changed  my  place,  unless  either  forced  by  plague,  or  for  the  sake 
of  study  or  health;  and  wherever  I  have  lived  (perhaps  I  shall  speak  too  arrogantly 
of  myself,  but  I  will  say  the  truth),  I  have  been  approved  by  those  most 
approved  and  praised  by  those  most  praised.  And  there  is  no  country,  whether 
Spain,  or  Italy,  or  England,  or  Scotland,  which  has  not  invited  me  to  its 
hospitality.  .  .  . 

I  have  explained  to  you  the  whole  scheme  of  my  life,  and  what  my  ideas  are.  I 
am  quite  ready  to  change  even  this  mode  of  life,  if  I  see  anything  better.  But  I 
do  not  see  what  I  can  do  in  Holland.  I  know  I  shall  not  find  either  the  climate  or 
the  food  agree  with  me;  and  I  shall  draw  all  eyes  upon  me.  I  shall  return  old  and 
grey  to  the  place  I  left  when  young;  I  shall  return  an  invalid.  I  shall  be  exposed 
to  the  contempt  of  the  lowest  people  after  being  accustomed  to  be  honoured  by  the 
greatest.  I  shall  exchange  my  studies  for  drinking  parties.  And  whereas  you  prom- 
ise your  assistance  in  finding  me  a  place  w^here  I  may  live,  as  you  say,  with  a  good 
income,  I  cannot  think  what  that  can  be,  unless  you  would  quarter  me  upon  some 
convent  of  nuns,  where  I  should  be  a  servant  to  women,  after  having  declined  to 
serve  Archbishops  and  Kings. 

But  just  as  he  refused  to  be  bound  by  the  ties  of  place,  so  did  he 
refuse  to  be  bound  by  the  ties  of  service.  The  wearisome  com- 
plaints that  fill  his  letters  arise  from  the  fact  that  he  was  unwilling 
to  perform  any  definite  labor  from  which  he  might  expect  a  regular 
income,  and  yet  he  did  expect  the  income.  He  insisted  upon  being 
absolutely  free.     Nor  would  he  be  limited  by  the  confines  of 

'  The  two  most  modem  lives  of  Erasmus  are  those  of  Froude  and  Professor  Emer- 
ton  of  Harvard.  And  the  idealism  of  the  first  is  corrected  by  the  caustic  quality  of 
the  second.  Froude's  Life  is  irritating  through  its  inaccuracy  and  carelessness  for 
detail, — so  irritating  that  scholars  are  apt  to  disregard  its  wonderfully  vivid  por- 
traiture. One  value,  at  least,  of  its  author  is  sho\N'n  by  the  fact  that  the  two  most 
notable  recent  additions  to  Erasmiana,  The  Epiatlea  by  Nichols,  and  the  Epiatola 
by  Allen,  both  acknowledge  his  inspiration. 

*Thi8  is  accepted  as  genuine  by  Allen,  and  somewhat  reluctantly  by  Nichols. 
The  translation  is  taken  from  Nichols,  Vol.  ii,  pp.  144, 149. 


280  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

language.  Notwithstanding  his  various  residences  in  England, 
in  one  case  of  five  years,  and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  given 
the  benefice  of  Aldington,  he  never  learned  to  speak  English. 
"He  could  not  preach  the  word  of  God  to  his  parishioners  in 
English  or  hold  any  communication  with  them  in  their  own  tongue, 
of  which  he  is  entirely  ignorant"  is  Warham's  confession.^  Nor 
is  there  much  reason  to  assume  that  he  knew  any  other  modern 
language  better.  His  sole  means  of  communication  was  the  Latin 
language.  Nor  did  he  wish  it  otherwise.  The  knowledge  of 
English,  French,  Dutch,  German,  Spanish,  or  even  Italian  was 
local.  Latin,  on  the  contrary,  was  familiar  to  every  cultivated 
man  in  Europe.  With  Latin,  Erasmus  was  a  denizen,  not  of  one 
country,  but  of  the  world.  As  Professor  Saintsbury  exclaims, 
what  a  misfortune  had  Erasmus  written  in  Dutch!  Actually, 
Latin  saved  him  from  the  limitations  of  any  one  nationality. 

As  Erasmus  was  by  profession  a  writer  to  the  universe,  so  was  his 
appeal  universal.  The  tales  of  his  incredible  popularity,  (tales 
that,  it  must  be  confessed,  Erasmus  himself  circulated  with  true 
Renaissance  modesty),  seem  founded  upon  fact.  At  least,  the 
sale  of  his  books  was  enormous.^  With  all  selections  and  all  un- 
dated editions  omitted  from  the  list,  the  following  compilation 
gives  the  number  of  editions  of  his  more  important  works  from  the 
respective  dates  of  the  first  edition  through  the  year  1550.  The 
Adagia  (1500)  has  ninety-eight  editions;  Enchiridion  Militis  Chris- 
tiani  (1503),  seventy-seven;  Encomion  Morice  (1511),  forty-nine; 
De  Copia  ((1511),  ninety;  De  Constructione  (1514),  seventy-two; 
Novum  Testamenium  (1516),  one  hundred  and  forty;  and  Collo- 
quia  (1516),  one  hundred  and  two.  Even  although  the  number 
of  copies  in  any  edition  was  probably  not  large,  yet  the  number  of 
readers  must  have  been  very  great. 

The  immediate  problem  here,  however,  is  not  the  eflFect  up>on 
Europe,  so  much  as  the  result  of  his  writing  upon  English  thought. 
England  had  a  pecuUar  claim  upon  him.  His  first  regular  income 
was  a  pension  of  20£  from  Lord  Mountjoy,  and  to  the  end  of  his 
life  he  received  help  from  England.  Warham  proved  a  generous 
patron,  and  apparently  he  was  aided  by  Colet  and  the  rest.    While 

^  Emerton's  Erasmus,  p.  185. 

*  These  figures  are  taken  from  the  Bibliotkeca  Erasmiana,  compiled  by  the  Direc- 
tion de  la  Biblioth^que  de  I'Universite  de  I'fitat,  h,  Gand,  1893. 


HUMANISM  281 

still  at  an  impressionable  age,  he  studied  Greek  at  Oxford,  and  may 
have  taught  it  at  Cambridge,  where  he  held  an  endowment.  Still 
more  important  are  the  mental  and  spiritual  aids  he  received.  His 
friendships  with  the  Oxford  group  have  already  been  mentioned. 
His  admiration  for  them,  especially  More,  was  unbounded.  It  is 
possible  that  Colet  by  his  precepts  and  by  his  example  gave  the 
determining  impulse  to  his  whole  life.  Erasmus,  by  his  devotion 
to  the  cause  of  morality,  belongs  definitely  to  the  English  group. 
It  is  no  cause  to  wonder  that  his  popularity,  in  England,  was  great. 
How  great  it  was  is  shown  by  the  Day-book  of  John  Dorne.^  John 
Dome  was  an  Oxford  book-seller,  and  in  1520  he  listed  each  day 
the  books  sold  with  their  prices.  It  is  an  unemotional  record  of 
the  hterary  demands  of  the  Oxford  public  for  that  year.  During 
that  period,  he  sold  2383  books.  The  books  in  English  are  man- 
uals, ballads,  etc.  English  literature  is  practically  unrepresented. 
There  are  three  ballads  of  Robin  Hood,  Lydgate's  Stans  Puer  ad 
Mensam  ^,  and  probably  Caxton's  translation  of  the  JEneid;  ' 
yet  Chaucer,  Gower,  Occleve,  Hawes,  Malory,  and  Skelton  are 
unrepresented.*  On  the  other  hand,  classical  literature  appears  in 
thirty-seven  copies  of  various  works  of  Cicero,  thirty-seven  of 
Terence,  thirty  of  Aristotle,  twenty-nine  of  Vergil,  twenty-three 
of  Ovid,  fourteen  of  Lucan,  twelve  of  Aristophanes,  nine  of  Lu- 
cian,  eight  of  Horace,  eight  of  Pliny,  six  of  Sallust,  three  of  Aulus 
Gellius,  one  of  Tacitus,  and  one  of  Persius.  The  English  humanists 
are  represented  by  one  copy  of  Linacre's  Galen  and  three  of  More's 
E'pistolcB  ad  Eduardum  Lei.  There  is  no  copy  of  the  Utopia.  Of 
Italian  humanism, — twenty-nine  copies  of  Sulpitius  were  sold, 
twenty-two  of  Valla,  and  three  of  Politian.  French  humanism 
is  indicated  by  twenty-nine  copies  of  various  works  of  Jacobus 
Faber,  the  friend  of  Budaeus  and  the  antagonist  of  Erasmus,  and 
for  the  German  there  were  two  copies  of  the  Epistolw  Obscurorum 
Virorum.  But  the  startling  feature  of  the  list  is  that  of  Eras- 
mus one  hundred  and  fifty -four  copies  were  sold,  without  counting 

'  Part  iii  of  the  First  Series  of  Collectanea,  edited  by  C.  R.  L.  Fletcher,  and  printed 
for  the  Oxford  Historical  Society. 

*  Although  in  the  last  line  of  the  poem  Lydgate  is  stated  to  have  been  the  author, 
his  authorship  has  yet  been  doubted.    It  is  accepted  by  MacCracken. 

*  Caxton's  Eneydoa  is  medieval,  not  classical. 

*  Barclay  appears  in  a  work  incapable  of  identification. 


282  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

twenty-six  copies  of  works  of  which  he  was  the  general  editor.  ^  Un- 
less, therefore,  it  be  shown  either  that  Oxford,  on  account  of  its 
academic  atmosphere,  was  very  unusual  as  a  book-market,  or  that 
the  year  1520  was  very  unusual,  it  necessarily  follows  that  more 
Englishmen  then  wished  to  read  the  works  of  Erasmus  than  the 
works  of  any  other  author,  living  or  dead !  It  is  impossible  to  ig- 
nore his  influence  upon  English  literature. 

The  works  of  Erasmus  most  in  favor  with  John  Dome's  patrons 
in  1520  are  the  following,  arranged  in  the  order  of  their  sales: 
Colloquia;  De  Constructione;  Copia  Verborum  et  Rerum;  Enchiridion 
Militis  Christiana;  Adagia;  Novum  Testamentum;  Paraphrasis  on 
various  parts  of  the  New  Testament;  Encomion  Morics  (The 
Praise  of  Folly);  and  the  dialogue,  usually  attributed  to  Faustus 
Andrelinus,  Julius  Exclusus}  Since  obviously  the  sale  of  any 
particular  work  would  depend  on  the  length  of  time  it  has  been 
before  the  reading  public,  and  also  upon  the  fluctuations  of  local 
interest,  little  value  can  be  gained  from  an  analysis  of  the  number 
of  copies  sold  of  any  work.  In  general  it  may  be  said  that  the 
popularity  of  the  second  and  the  third  needs  no  explanation.  The 
De  Constructione  is  a  good  Latin  grammar;  the  Copia  a  good  rhet- 
oric; as  such,  the  sale  of  them  is  interesting  only  as  showing  a 
natural  interest  in  Latin  as  a  medium  of  expression.  Somewhat 
the  same  may  be  argued  for  the  Adagia,  a  collection  of  quotations 
from  classic  authors,  and,  perhaps,  with  the  early  editions  of  the 
Colloquia,  the  appeal  may  have  been  to  the  study  of  conversational 
Latin.  But  just  as  the  Colloquies  are  vastly  more  than  merely 
model  conversations,  so  is  Erasmus  himself  quite  other  than  a  mere 
grammarian.  To  understand  the  significance  of  his  immense 
popularity  requires  a  careful  analysis  of  his  work. 

Unless  the  readers  of  his  day  differed  radically  from  the  readers 
of  today,  to  re-state  his  popularity  in  other  terms  is  to  say  that 

^  My  counting  seems  to  differ  from  that  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Lindsay,  Cambridge 
History  of  Literature,  iii,  21-22;  my  figures,  although  smaller,  are  yet  sulBciently 
surprising. 

*  The  much  debated  authorship  of  this  dialogue  is  given  to  Erasmus  by  Froude, 
Nichols  and  Allen  (Vol.  II,  p.  418).  In  1516  More  writes  him:  "Lupsetus  restituit 
mihi  aliquot  quaterniones  tuas  quas  olim  apudse  tennerat.  In  his  est  lulii  Genius 
.  .  .  ,  tua  manu  omnia."  Although  Erasmus  may  have  made  a  manuscript  copy 
of  another's  work,  his  subsequent  equivocal  denials  are  so  obviously  motivated 
that  the  probability  seems  strong  that  he  was  the  author. 


HUMANISM  283 

they  found  him  interesting.  And  the  interest  of  so  many  readers 
is  due  to  the  wideness  of  his  appjeal.  Thus  the  Adagia,  a  collection 
of  proverbs  from  tlie  classics,  was  bought  as  a  handy  vademecum; 
while  the  Morice  was  enjoyed  by  those  that  liked  intellectual  play. 
The  Colloquies,  on  the  other  hand,  in  an  age  when  light  reading 
was  rarely  obtainable,  would  in  a  measure  represent  both  our 
drama  and  our  novel.  The  realism  of  the  Naufragium  or  the  humor 
of  the  Diversoria  had  no  real  competition  except  in  the  Italian 
novelle.  Fiction  was  represented  in  English  and  French,  either  by 
cumbrous  allegorical  poems  or  collections  of  anecdotes  like  the 
Hundred  Mery  Talys.  Here  Erasmus  may  be  regarded  as  the  six- 
teenth century  prototype  of  the  novelist.  His  sense  for  dramatic 
situation,  his  handling  of  the  dialogue  form,  his  wit,  and  his  daring, 
(illustrated  in  such  a  doubtful  situation  as  that  in  the  Adulescens 
el  Scortum),  go  far  to  explain  the  number  of  his  readers. 

Yet  the  significance  of  Erasmus  does  not  lie  here.  In  English 
literature  neither  the  drama,  nor  the  novel,  owe  any  great  debt 
to  Erasmus.  What  might  perhaps  have  been  the  literary  develop- 
ment was  stopped  by  the  Reformation,  leaving  Erasmus  with 
Lucian  on  the  far  side  of  the  gulf.  The  effect  of  Erasmus  on  his 
own  generation  was  due,  not  to  his  form,  but  to  his  content;  not 
to  the  manner  in  which  he  delivered  his  message,  but  to  the  mes- 
sage itself;  not  to  his  objective  creations,  but  to  his  own  person- 
ality.^ As  a  scholar  he  was  perhaps  the  best  known  of  his  genera- 
tion. With  his  collaboration  the  printing  house  of  Froben  at  Basel 
ranked  as  the  leading  publishers  of  Europe.  He  has  the  scholarly 
conscience,  the  desire  to  find  the  ipsissima  verba  of  his  author. 
It  was  this  desire  that  caused  the  sensation  of  his  edition  of  the 
New  Testament.  The  fact  that  he  had  neither  the  critical  appara- 
tus, nor  the  critical  training,  to  enable  him  to  make  a  text  that 
approximates  modern  standards  is  of  little  importance;  the  im|x>r- 
tant  factor  is  that  he  had  the  desire.  While  the  Church  admitted 
the  value  of  tradition  and  of  historic  dicta,  of  course  the  basis  of 
all  dogma  was  the  New  Testament  itself.  The  text,  authorized  by 
the  Church,  was  that  of  the  Vulgate,  a  version  prepared  by  St. 
Jerome  about  400  A.  D.  And  in  the  lapse  of  centuries  this  version 
had  become  accepted  as  the  actual  Word  of  God.  Upon  its  phras- 
ing the  schoolmen  liad  constructed  their  elaborate  theses.  To 
^  The  effect  of  Erasmus  on  form  will  be  discussed  later. 


284  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

question  its  phrasing  seemed  sacrilege.  This  position  is  illustrated 
by  a  letter  of  Martinus  Dorpius  to  Erasmus  ^ 

But  I  also  understand,  that  you  have  corrected  the  New  Testament,  and  written 
notes  on  more  than  a  thousand  passages,  not  without  profit  to  Theologians.  This 
is  another  matter,  upon  which  in  all  friendship  I  have  longed  to  convey  a  warning  to 
a  friend.  .  .  . 

You  are  proposing  to  correct  the  Latin  copies  by  the  Greek.  But  if  I  show  that 
the  Latin  version  has  no  mixture  of  falsehood  or  mistake,  will  you  not  admit  that 
such  a  work  is  unnecessary.''  But  this  is  what  I  claim  for  the  Vulgate,  since  it  is  un- 
reasonable to  suppose,  that  the  Universal  Church  has  been  in  error  for  so  many 
generations  in  her  use  of  this  edition,  nor  is  it  probable  that  so  many  holy  Fathers 
have  been  mistaken,  who  in  reliance  upon  it  have  defined  the  most  arduous  ques- 
tions in  General  Councils,  which,  it  is  admitted  by  most  theologians  as  well  as 
lawyers,  are  not  subject  to  error  in  matters  of  faith. 

Consequently  the  cry  of  heresy  arose.  And  yet  Erasmus  had  ded- 
icated his  work  by  permission  to  the  Pope.  It  is  with  surprised 
irritation  that  Erasmus  justifies  himself  to  Henry  Bullock.^  He 
has  been  told  that  the  book  has  been  forbidden  in  one  of  the  Cam- 
bridge colleges.  What  kind  of  man  is  it,  he  exclaims,  that  is  so 
exceedingly  irritable  that  he  is  angered  by  works  that  would 
tame  even  wild  beasts !  No  work  can  be  approved  by  the  General 
Councils,  until  it  has  been  placed  before  them.  Nor  is  it  proved 
that  the  Vulgate  may  not  have  been  changed  by  some  scribe. 

Again,  let  them  clear  up,  if  they  can,  this  dilemma.  Do  they  allow  any  change 
to  be  made  in  the  sacred  text,  or  absolutely  none  at  all?  If  any,  why  not  first  ex- 
amine whether  a  change  is  rightly  made  or  not?  If  none,  what  will  they  do  with 
those  passages  where  the  existence  of  an  error  is  too  manifest  to  be  concealed? 

Nor  is  that  any  reason  why  a  method  applied  to  profane  learning 
should  not  be  employed  upon  the  sacred  Text. 

What  is  it  then,  that  these  people  find  deficient  in  me?  I  have  not  been  the  first 
to  take  this  matter  in  hand;  I  have  not  done  it  without  consideration;  and  I  have 
followed  the  rule  of  the  Synod.  If  anyone  is  influenced  by  learning,  my  work  is 
approved  by  the  most  learned;  if  by  virtue,  it  is  approved  by  the  most  upright; 
if  by  authority,  it  is  approved  by  Bishops,  by  Archbishops,  by  the  Pope  himself. 
Nevertheless  I  do  not  desire  to  obtain  any  advantage  from  their  support,  if  it  be 
found  that  I  have  solicited  the  favour  of  any  of  them.  Whatever  support  b  given, 
has  been  given  to  the  cause,  and  not  to  the  man. 

»  The  Epistles  by  Nichols,  ii,  169. 

*  Nichols,  ii,  324-332,  gives  extracts;  the  whole  letter  is  in  Allen  ii,  321. 


HUMANISM  285 

Read  in  the  light  of  future  events  this  letter  is  amusing.  Of  course 
those  that  wished  to  keep  matters  exactly  as  they  were  were  right 
in  protesting!  By  thus  throwing  the  matter  open  to  individual 
judgment  Erasmus  was  undermining  the  authority  of  the  Church. 
The  situation  is  somewhat  analogous  to  that  created  by  Darwin 
with  his  evolutionary  theory,  and  is  paralleled  by  the  amount  of 
theological  invective  it  evoked.  Erasmus  had  no  desire  to  attack 
the  dogmas  of  the  Church;  merely  as  a  scholar  he  wished  to  lay 
before  the  world  the  actual  Scriptures. 

His  motive  in  doing  so,  however,  was  that  he  wished  a  moral 
reform.  Here  we  see  most  clearly  the  English  influence.  The 
novelty  of  Colet's  lectures  on  the  Pauline  Epistles  lay  in  inter- 
preting them  as  human  documents  and  in  applying  them  to  the 
conditions  of  his  own  day.  That  is  exactly  the  position  of  Erasmus. 
His  annotations  to  the  New  Testament  drive  home  the  scriptural 
truths  by  modern  applications.  The  same  attitude  appears  in 
the  Enchiridion  sixteen  years  earlier.  Obviously  with  the  parable 
of  the  ten  talents  in  mind  he  thus  comments :  ^ 

The  more  is  committed  and  lent  to  thee,  the  more  art  thou  bound  to  thy  brother. 
Thou  art  rich,  remember  thou  art  the  dispenser,  not  the  lord:  take  heed  circiun- 
spectly  how  thou  entreatest  the  common  good.  Believest  thou  that  property  or 
impropriation  was  prohibited  and  voluntary  poverty  enjoined  to  monks  only.' 
Thou  art  deceived,  both  pertain  indifferently  to  all  christian  men.  ...  So  greatly 
Christ  is  coming  into  contempt  to  the  world,  that  they  think  it  a  goodly  and  excel- 
lent thing  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him:  and  that  so  much  the  more  every  man 
should  be  despised,  the  more  he  were  to  him.  Hearest  thou  not  daily  of  the  lay 
persons  in  their  fury,  the  names  of  a  clerk,  of  a  priest,  of  a  monk,  to  be  cast  in  our 
teeth,  instead  of  a  sharp  and  cruel  rebuke,  saying,  that  clerk,  thou  priest,  thou  monk, 
that  thou  art:  and  it  is  done,  utterly  with  none  other  mind,  with  none  other  voice 
or  pronouncing,  than  if  they  should  cast  in  our  teeth  incest  or  sacrilege.  I  verily 
marvel  why  they  also  cast  not  in  our  teeth  baptism,  why  also  object  they  not  against 
us  with  the  sarazyns  the  name  of  Christ  as  an  opprobrious  thing.  If  they  said,  an 
evil  clerk,  an  unworthy  priest,  or  an  unreligious  monk,  in  that  they  might  be  suf- 
fered as  men  which  note  the  manners  of  the  persons,  and  not  despise  the  profession 
of  virtue.  But  whosoever  counteth  praise  in  themselves  the  deflowering  of  virgins, 
goods  taken  away  in  war,  money  either  won  or  lost  at  dice,  or  other  chance,  and 
have  nothing  to  lay  against  another  man  more  spiteful  or  opprobrious  or  more 
to  be  ashamed  of,  than  the  names  of  a  monk  or  a  priest.  Certainly  it  is  easy  to 
ooDJecture  what  these,  in  name  only  christian  men,  judge  of  Christ. 

>The  Enchiridion  translated  1338,  republished  1905  by  Methuen  &  Co.. 
815-17. 


9Sfi  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Throughout  his  work  his  aim  is  to  put  his  scholarly  attainments 
to  the  service  of  right  living.  It  is  this  moral  standpoint  that  is 
stressed  in  the  letter  to  Servatius.^ 

I  will  now  say  something  about  my  books.  I  think  you  have  read  the  Enchiri- 
dion, by  which  not  a  few  confess  themselves  to  have  been  inflamed  to  a  love  of 
piety.  I  claim  no  merit  of  my  own,  but  rejoice  with  Christ,  if  by  his  gift  through 
my  means  any  good  has  been  done.  I  do  not  know  whether  you  have  seen  the  Book 
of  Adages,  as  it  has  been  printed  by  Aldus.  It  is  not  a  theological  work,  but  one 
that  is  useful  for  every  branch  of  learning,  and  cost  me  incalculable  nights  of  toil. 
I  have  published  a  book  on  Copiousness  of  matter  and  language,  which  I  dedicated 
to  my  friend  Colet,  a  useful  work  for  persons  preparing  to  preach,  though  such  stud- 
ies are  scorned  by  those  who  despise  all  good  Letters.  During  the  last  two  years, 
beside  other  employments,  I  have  corrected  the  Epistles  of  Jerome,  distinguishing 
vrith  dagger-marks  the  spurious  additions,  and  illustrating  the  obscure  passages 
with  notes.  I  have  also  corrected  the  New  Testament  from  the  collation  of  ancient 
Greek  manuscripts,  and  annotated  more  than  a  thousand  places,  not  without 
profit  to  theologians.  I  have  begun  a  commentary  on  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul, 
which  I  shall  finish,  when  I  have  published  what  I  have  already  mentioned.  For 
I  have  resolved  to  give  up  my  life  to  Sacred  Literature. 

It  is  only  fair  to  state  that  this  letter  is  apologetic,  that  he  care- 
fully avoids  mentioning  the  Moria,  and  yet  there  is  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  it  does  noti  truly  reflect  his  philosophy.  And  it  is 
the  point  of  view  of  his  English  friends,  moraUty  rather  than 
hterature.^ 

This  very  English  emphasis  upon  the  moral  aspect  of  Uterature, 
joined  with  the  discipline  derived  from  his  scholarly  pursuits,  led 
him  to  stress  only  the  essentials.  But  not  satisfied  with  this,  he 
attacks  what  he  considers  the  non-essentials,  which  yet  confuse 
mankind.  To  discriminate  between  what  is  essential  and  what 
non-essential,  he  apphes  commonsense,  thereby  becoming  an 
apostle  of  rationalism.  In  the  Encomion  Moriw,  folly  is  all  that 
is  not  dictated  by  the  intellect.  All  emotional  states  are  therefore 
foohsh.  Love,  patriotism,  war, — ^all  that  has  inspired  the  bards 
of  all  ages, — is  foolish.  That  this,  like  the  Utopia  is  only  a  jeu  d'es- 
prit,  and  that  it  should  not  be  taken  seriously,  is  of  course  obvious. 
All  Erasmus  means  is,  that  tested  by  pure  intellect  life  is  a  divine 
comedy.  And  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that,  finished  in  More's 
house  and  dedicated  to  him,  it  does  not  reflect  the  views  of  that 

1  Nichols,  ii,  146-7. 

*  This  is  expanded  in  Knight's  Life  of  Colet  and  Seebohm's  Oxford  Reformers. 


HUMANISM  287 

group.  Erasmus,  in  this  work,  humorously  develops  even  the 
modern  sceptical  spirit.* 

The  next  to  be  placed  among  the  regiment  of  fools  are  such  as  make  a  trade  of 
telling  or  inquiring  after  incredible  stories  of  miracles  and  prodigies:  never  doubting 
that  a  lie  will  choke  them,  they  will  muster  up  a  thousand  several  strange  relations 
of  spirits,  ghosts,  apparitions,  raising  of  the  devil,  and  such  like  bugbears  of  super- 
stition, which  the  farther  they  are  from  being  probably  true,  the  more  greedily 
they  are  swallowed,  and  the  more  devoutly  believed.  And  these  absurdities  do  not 
only  bring  an  empty  pleasure,  and  cheap  divertisement,  but  they  are  a  good  trade, 
and  procure  a  comfortable  income  to  such  priests  and  friars  as  by  this  craft  get  their 
gain.  To  these  again  are  nearly  related  such  others  as  attribute  strange  virtues 
to  the  shrines  and  images  of  saints  and  martyrs,  and  so  would  make  their  credulous 
proselytes  believe,  that  if  they  pay  their  devotion  to  St.  Christopher  in  the  morning, 
they  shall  be  guarded  and  secured  the  day  following  from  all  dangers  and  mis- 
fortunes: if  soldiers,  when  they  first  take  arms,  shall  come  and  mumble  over  such 
a  set  prayer  before  the  picture  of  St.  Barbara,  they  shall  return  safe  from  all  en- 
gagements: or  if  any  pray  to  Erasmus  on  such  particular  holidays,  with  the  cere- 
mony of  wax-candles,  and  other  fopperies,  he  shall  in  a  short  time  be  rewarded  with 
a  plentiful  increase  of  wealth  and  riches.  The  Christians  have  now  their  gigantic 
St.  George,  as  well  as  the  pagans  had  their  Hercules;  they  paint  the  saint  on  horse- 
back, and  drawing  the  horse  in  splendid  trappings,  very  gloriously  accoutred,  they 
scarce  refrain  in  a  literal  sense  from  worshipping  the  very  beast. 

There  is  no  argument  here.  It  is  assumed  that  the  absurdity  be- 
comes evident  by  the  mere  statement.  To  a  mind  familiar  with 
pagan  gods  and  pagan  superstitions, — and  to  pagan  objections 
to  both, — certain  aspects  of  Christian  civilization  presented 
evident  analogies.  Human  nature  is  human  nature,  and  whether 
the  particular  manifestation  of  its  aberration  is  worship  directed 
to  St.  George  or  to  Hercules  is  accidental. 

This  rational  point  of  view  when  turned  upon  revealed  religion, 
which  by  hypothesis  is  irrational  because  beyond  the  human 
reason,  led  Erasmus  into  attacks  upon  the  abuses  of  the  Church. 
This  natural  sequence  is  shown  in  the  paragraphs  immediately 
following  the  one  just  quoted: 

What  shall  I  say  of  such  as  cry  up  and  maintain  the  cheat  of  pardons  and  in- 
dulgences? that  by  these  compute  the  time  of  each  soul's  residence  in  purgatory, 
and  a.ssign  them  a  longer  or  shorter  continuance,  according  as  they  purchase  more 
or  fewer  of  these  paltry  pardons,  and  saleable  exemptions.'  Or  what  can  be  said 
bad  enough  of  others,  as  pretend  that  by  the  force  of  such  magical  charms,  or  by  the 

*  I  am  using  the  anonymous  translation  issued  by  Reeves,  1876  and  re-issued 
by  Gibbing  &  Co..  1900. 


288  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

fumbling  over  their  beads  in  the  rehearsal  of  such  and  such  petitions  (which  some 
religious  impostors  invented,  either  for  diversion,  or  what  is  more  likely  for  advan- 
tage), they  shall  procure  riches,  honour,  pleasure,  health,  long  life,  a  lusty  old  age, 
nay,  after  death  a  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  our  Saviour  in  His  kingdom;  though 
as  to  this  last  part  of  their  happiness,  they  care  not  how  long  it  be  deferred,  having 
scarce  any  appetite  toward  a-tasting  the  joys  of  heaven,  till  they  are  surfeited, 
glutted  with,  and  can  no  longer  relish  their  enjoyments  on  earth.  By  this  easy 
way  of  purchasing  pardon,  any  notorious  highwayman,  any  plundering  soldier, 
or  any  bribe-taking  judge,  shall  disburse  some  part  of  their  imjust  gains,  and  so 
think  all  their  grossest  impieties  suflBciently  atoned  for;  so  many  perjuries,  lusts, 
drunkenness,  quarrels,  bloodsheds,  cheats,  treacheries,  and  all  sorts  of  debauch- 
eries, shall  all  be,  as  it  were,  struck  a  bargain  for,  and  such  a  contract  made,  as 
if  they  had  paid  off  all  arrears,  and  might  now  begin  upon  new  score. 

And  what  can  be  more  ridiculous,  than  for  some  others  to  be  confident  of  going 
to  heaven  by  repeating  daily  those  seven  verses  out  of  the  Psalms,  which  the  devil 
taught  St.  Bernard,  thinking  thereby  to  have  put  a  trick  upon  him,  but  that  he  was 
over-reached  in  his  cunning.  .  .  . 

From  the  same  principles  of  folly  proceeds  the  custom  of  each  country's  chal- 
lenging their  particular  guardian-saint;  nay,  each  saint  has  his  distinct  oflSce  al- 
lotted to  him,  and  is  accordingly  addressed  to  upon  the  respective  occasions:  as 
one  for  the  toothache,  a  second  to  grant  an  easy  delivery  in  child-birth,  a  third  to 
help  persons  to  lost  goods,  another  to  protect  seamen  in  a  long  voyage,  another  to 
guard  the  farmer's  cows  and  sheep,  and  so  on;  for  to  rehearse  all  instances  would 
be  extremely  tedious. 

There  are  some  more  catholic  saints  petitioned  to  upon  all  occasions,  as  more 
especially  the  Virgin  Mary,  whose  blind  devotees  think  it  manners  now  to  place  the 
mother  before  the  Son. 

And  of  all  the  prayers  and  intercessions  that  are  made  to  these  respective  saints 
the  substance  of  them  is  no  more  than  down-right  Folly.  .  .   . 

Such  frankness  of  discussion  may  be  explained,  as  in  the  anal- 
ogous case  of  the  Utopia,  by  stressing  the  undoubted  fact  that  the 
aim  here  is  to  amuse.  The  Moria,  an  intellectual  pastime,  is 
more  interesting  as  an  example  of  the  writer's  agility  than  as  a 
record  of  his  personal  opinions.  To  call  him  to  account  for 
paradoxes  uttered  in  the  name  of  Folly  is  doubtless  foolish.  The 
same  condition,  however,  scarcely  holds  with  his  most  popular 
work,  the  Colloquia.  In  origin  it  was  a  series  of  model  conver- 
sations in  Latin,  a  Latin  Ollendorf.  What  quickly  difiFerentiates 
it  from  any  other  book  of  this  type  is  both  the  dramatic  nature 
of  the  conversations  and  the  extraordinary  subjects  of  them.  It 
is  really  a  series  of  discussions,  in  the  form  of  dialogue,  of  the 
vital  questions  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Inevitably  the  authority 
of  the  Church  over  the  individual  is  argued.    This,  at  a  time  when 


HUMANISM  289 

the  Reformation  was  developing  in  Germany,  the  Huguenots  were 
forming  in  France,  and  England  was  trembling  in  the  balance,  was 
above  all  the  most  diflBcult  and  the  most  interesting  question 
before  Europe.  In  the  celebrated  ^Ix'^vo^a^Ca  a  fishmonger  and 
a  butcher  open  the  discussion  by  questioning  the  papal  prohibition 
of  flesh  on  certain  days  in  favor  of  fish.  As,  of  course,  there  was 
no  refrigeration  in  the  sixteenth  century,  the  question  was  not  an 
academic  one,  nor  are  the  terms  used  in  discussing  it  academic. 
But  it  quickly  passed  into  the  distinction  between  the  commands 
of  God  and  the  laws  of  the  Church,  and  then  into  the  typical 
Erasmian  position  of  emphasis  upon  the  essential  in  contrast  to 
the  mere  observance.^ 

But.  What  a  mighty  Crime  is  it  accounted  for  any  one  to  receive  the  Sacrament, 
not  having  first  wash'd  his  Mouth!  when,  at  the  same  Time,  they  do  not  stick  to 
take  it  with  an  unpurified  Mind,  defiled  with  vile  Affections. 

Fish.  How  many  Priests  are  there,  that  would  die  before  they  would  participate 
the  Sacrament  in  a  Chalice  and  Charger,  that  has  not  been  consecrated  by  a  Bishop, 
or  in  their  e very-Day  Clothes?  But  among  them  all  that  are  thus  nice,  how  many 
do  we  see  that  are  not  at  all  afraid  to  come  to  the  Lord's  Table,  drunk  with  the  last 
Night's  Debauch?  How  fearful  are  they,  lest  they  touch  the  Wafer  with  that  Part 
of  the  Hand  that  has  not  been  dipp'd  in  consecrated  Oil?  Why  are  they  not  as 
religious  in  taking  Care  that  an  unhallow'd  Mind  does  not  offend  the  Lord  himself? 

But.  We  won't  so  much  as  touch  a  consecrated  Vessel,  and  think  we  have  been 
guilty  of  a  heinous  Offense,  if  we  shall  chance  so  to  do;  and  yet  in  the  mean  Time, 
how  unconcern *d  are  we,  while  we  violate  the  living  Temples  of  the  Holy  Spirit? 

FUh.  Human  Constitutions  require  that  no  Bastard,  lame,  or  one  that  hath  but 
one  Eye,  be  admitted  to  any  sacred  Function;  how  nice  are  we  as  to  this  Point? 
But  in  the  mean  Time,  Unlearned,  Gamesters,  Drunkards,  Soldiers,  and  Murder- 
ers, are  admitted  every  where.  They  tell  us,  that  the  Diseases  of  the  Mind  lie  not 
open  to  our  View;  I  don't  speak  of  those  Things  that  are  hidden,  but  of  such  as  are 
more  plain  to  be  seen  than  the  Deformity  of  the  Body. 

Here  Erasmus'  objection  is  not  to  the  forms  and  ceremonies  in 
themselves,  but  to  the  fact  that  they  have  superseded  the  sub- 
stance. Exactly  similar  is  his  attitude  toward  confession.  In  the 
following  passage  between  Erasmus  and  Gaspar,  the  latter  is  a 
stalking  horse  for  Erasmus'  own  opinions." 

Er.  I  am  of  your  Mind;  but  how  do  you  stand  affected  as  to  Confession? 
Ga.  Very  well;  for  I  confess  daily. 
Er.  Every  Day? 

» I  UBe  Bailey'8  translation  of  1725.  »  The  Child't  Piety. 


290  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Ga.  Yes. 

Er.  Then  you  ought  to  keep  a  Priest  to  yourself. 

Ga.  But  I  confess  to  him  who  only  truly  remits  Sins,  to  whom  all  the  Power  is 
given. 

Er.  To  whom? 

Ga.  To  Christ. 

Er.  And  do  you  think  that's  sufficient? 

Ga.  It  would  be  enough  for  me,  if  it  were  enough  for  the  Rulers  of  the  Church, 
and  receiv'd  Custom. 

Er.  Who  do  you  call  the  Rulers  of  the  Church? 

Ga.  The  Pop)es,  Bishops  and  Apostles. 

Er.  And  do  you  put  Christ  into  this  Number? 

Ga.  He  is  without  Controversy  the  chief  Head  of  'em  all. 

Er.  And  was  he  the  Author  of  this  Confession  in  use? 

Ga.  He  is  indeed  the  Author  of  all  good;  but  whether  he  appointed  Confession 
as  it  is  now  us'd  in  the  Church,  I  leave  to  be  disputed  by  Divines.  The  Authority 
of  my  Betters  is  enough  for  me  that  am  but  a  Lad  and  a  private  Person.  This  is 
certainly  the  principal  Confession;  nor  is  it  an  easy  Matter  to  confess  to  Christ; 
no  Body  confesses  to  him,  but  he  that  is  angry  with  his  Sin.  If  I  have  committed 
any  great  Offence,  I  lay  it  open,  and  bewail  it  to  him,  and  implore  his  Mercy;  I 
cry  out,  weep  and  lament,  nor  do  I  give  over  before  I  feel  the  Love  of  Sin  throughly 
purged  from  the  Bottom  of  my  Heart,  and  some  Tranquility  and  Chearfulness  of 
Mind  follow^  upon  it,  which  is  an  Argument  of  the  Sin  being  pardoned.  And  when 
the  Time  requires  to  go  to  the  holy  Communion  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ; 
then  I  make  Confession  to  a  Priest  too,  but  in  few  Words,  and  nothing  but  what  I  am 
well  satisfy 'd  are  Faults,  or  such  that  carry  in  them  a  very  great  Suspicion  that 
they  are  such;  neither  do  I  always  take  it  to  be  a  capital  or  enormous  Crime,  every 
Thing  that  is  done  contrary  to  human  Constitutions,  unless  a  wicked  Contemptuous- 
ness  shall  go  along  with  it:  Nay,  I  scarce  believe  any  Crime  to  be  Capital,  that  has 
not  Malice  join'd  with  it,  that  is,  a  perverse  Will. 

Confession  is  merely  a  form,  useful  only  as  it  follows  the  true  con- 
fession to  the  Christ;  absolution  also  is  merely  a  form,  useful  only 
as  it  represents  the  true  absolution  given  alone  by  God. 

One  more  illustration  of  this  new  rationalism,  born  of  humanistic 
study,  must  be  given.  In  1513-14  Erasmus  went  on  a  pilgrimage 
to  the  shrines  of  Our  Lady  of  Walsingham  in  Norfolk  and  of  St. 
Thomas  d  Becket  at  Canterbury.  In  the  relics  shown,  there  and 
elsewhere,  Erasmus  expresses  complete  unbelief  and  in  his  Pere- 
grinatio  religionis  ergo  ridicules  the  whole  system  mercilessly. 
He  is  shown  the  middle  joint  of  the  finger  of  St.  Peter. 

I  then  took  Notice  of  the  Bigness  of  the  Joint,  which  was  large  enough  to  be  taken 
for  that  of  a  Giant.  Upon  which,  said  I,  Peter  must  Needs  have  been  a  very  lusty 
Man.    At  this  one  of  the  Company  fell  a-laughing. 


HUMANISM  291 

The  Virgin's  house  transported  in  the  air,  like  the  Holy  House 
at  Loretto,  the  fragments  of  the  True  Cross,  which  if  gathered 
together  "would  seem  to  be  sufficient  Loading  for  a  good  large 
Ship;"  the  Virgin's  Milk,  authenticated  by  the  statement  of  an  un- 
known nun  to  Matthew  of  Paris,  on  account  of  which  indulgences 
are  given,  and  the  treasures  of  the  place  are  each  in  turn  held  up 
to  scorn.  In  the  second  pilgrimage  they  are  shown  the  immensely 
valuable  possessions  of  the  shrine  of  St.  Thomas.^  His  friend 
"Gratian  PuUus, "  "a  Man  of  Learning  and  Piety,  but  not  so  well 
affected  to  this  Part  of  Religion  as  I  could  wish  he  were, "  inter- 
rupted the  performance: 

My  Friend  Gratian  lost  himself  here  extremely.  After  a  short  Prayer,  he  says 
to  the  Assistant  of  him  that  shew'd  us  the  Reliques,  Good  Father,  is  it  true,  as  I 
have  heard,  that  Thomas,  while  he  liv'd,  was  very  charitable  to  the  Poor?  Very 
true,  replies  he,  and  began  to  relate  a  great  many  Instances  of  his  Charity.  Then, 
answers  Gratian,  I  don't  believe  that  good  Inclination  in  him  is  changed,  unless 
it  be  for  the  better.  The  Officer  assented.  Then,  says  he  again,  if  this  holy  Man 
was  so  liberal  to  the  Poor,  when  he  was  a  poor  Man  himself,  and  stood  in  Need  of 
Charity  for  the  Support  of  his  own  Body,  don't  you  think  he  would  take  it  well  now, 
when  he  is  grown  so  rich,  and  wants  nothing,  if  some  poor  Woman  having  a  Family 
of  Children  at  Home  ready  to  starve,  or  Daughters  in  Danger  of  being  under  a 
necessity  to  prostitute  themselves  for  want  of  Portions,  or  a  Husband  sick  in  Bed, 
and  destitute  of  all  Comforts;  if  such  a  Woman  should  ask  him  Leave  to  make  bold 
with  some  small  Portion  of  these  vast  Riches,  for  the  Relief  of  her  Family,  taking  it 
either  as  by  Consent,  or  by  Gift,  or  by  Way  of  Borrowing?  The  Assistant  making 
no  .\nswer  to  this,  Gratian  being  a  warm  Man,  I  am  fully  persuaded,  says  he,  that 
the  good  Man  would  be  glad  at  his  Heart,  that  when  he  is  dead  he  could  be  able  to 
relieve  the  Necessities  of  the  Poor  with  his  Wealth.  Upon  this  the  Shewer  of  the 
Relicks  began  to  frown,  and  to  pout  out  his  Lips,  and  to  look  upon  us  as  if  he  would 
have  eaten  us  up;  and  I  don't  doubt  but  he  would  have  spit  in  our  Faces,  and  have 
tum'd  us  out  of  the  Church  by  the  Neck  and  Shoulders,  but  that  we  had  the  Arch- 
bishop's Recommendation. 

From  such  passages  and  others  like  them,  the  easy  inference 
is  that  Erasmus  is  an  out-and-out  reformer,  that  he  but  waited 
for  the  flag  to  be  unfurled  to  join  the  ranks.  Actually  nothing  is 
farther  from  the  truth.  He  lived  a  good  Romanist,  and  at  the 
end  of  his  life  received  600  ducats  from  the  Papacy  with  the 
intimation  that  he  was  to  be  made  a  cardinal.     The  usual  ex- 

'  Compare  Chapter  1,  p.  17.  A  modem  analogue  to  this  is  the  shrine  of  San 
Carlo  Borromeo  at  Milan,  and  Gratian's  disgust  is  duplicated  by  that  of  the  modem 
Protestant  visitor. 


292  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

planation  of  this  anomalous  situation  is  expressed  in  Pope's 
antithesis,  "the  glory  of  the  priesthood  and  the  shame."  At  the 
worst,  he  is  represented  as,  although  a  reformer  at  heart,  afraid 
to  join  the  ranks,  lest  he  lose  the  flesh-pots  of  the  Papacy;  at  the 
best,  that  he  was  by  nature  a  "trimmer."  Neither  extreme  of 
these  opinions  does  justice  to  the  bias  of  his  mind,  trained  by 
humanism.  Exactly  the  same  faculties,  which  made  him  a  critic 
of  the  abuses  of  the  Church,  exposed  to  him  the  dangers  of  the  new 
movement.    His  attitude  is  shown  in  a  letter  of  1529 :  ^ 

In  such  times  as  ours  it  is  better  to  call  on  the  Lord  than  to  trust  in  princes  and 
armies.  We  must  pray  to  Him  to  shorten  these  days.  Alas!  Christianity  has  sunk 
so  low  that  scarce  a  man  knows  now  what  calling  on  the  Lord  means.  One  looks 
to  cardinals  and  bishops,  another  to  kings,  another  to  the  black  battalions  of  monks 
and  divines.  What  do  they  want?  What  do  they  expect  from  protectors,  who  care 
nothing  for  Catholic  piety,  and  care  only  to  recover  their  old  pKJwer  and  enjoyments.-' 
We  were  drunk  or  asleep,  and  God  has  sent  these  stem  schoolmasters  to  wake  us  up. 
The  rope  has  been  overstrained.  It  might  have  stood  if  they  had  slackened  it  a 
little,  but  they  would  rather  have  it  break  than  save  it  by  concession.  The  Pope 
is  head  of  the  Church,  and  as  such  deserves  to  be  honoured.  He  stretched  his  au- 
thority too  far,  and  so  the  first  strand  of  the  rope  parted.  Pardons  and  indulgences 
were  tolerable  within  limits.  Monks  and  commissaries  filled  the  world  with  them 
to  line  their  own  pockets.  In  every  Church  were  the  red  boxes  and  the  crosses  and 
the  papal  arms,  and  the  people  were  forced  to  buy.  So  the  second  strand  went. 
Then  there  was  the  invocation  of  saints.  The  images  in  churches  at  first  served  for 
ornaments  and  examples.  By-and-by  the  walls  were  covered  with  scandalous  pic- 
tures. The  cult  ran  to  idolatry;  so  parted  a  third.  The  singing  of  hymns  was  an 
ancient  and  pious  custom,  but  when  music  was  introduced  fitter  for  weddings  and 
banquets  than  for  God's  service,  and  the  sacred  words  were  lost  in  affected  intona- 
tions, so  that  no  word  in  the  Liturgy  was  spoken  plainly,  away  went  another.  What 
is  more  solenm  than  the  mass?  But  when  stupid  vagabond  priests  learn  up  two 
or  three  masses  and  repeat  them  over  and  over  as  a  cobbler  makes  shoes;  when  no- 
torious profligates  oflBciate  at  the  Lord's  table,  and  the  sacredest  of  mysteries  is 
sold  for  money — well,  this  strand  is  almost  gone  too.  Secret  confession  may  be 
useful;  but  when  it  is  employed  to  extort  money  out  of  the  terrors  of  fools,  when  an 
institution  designed  as  medicine  for  the  soul  is  made  an  instrument  of  priestly  vil- 
lany,  this  part  of  the  cord  will  not  last  much  longer  either. 

Priests  who  are  loose  in  their  lives  and  yet  demand  to  be  honoured  as  superior 

1  The  Collected  Works  of  Erasmus,  Froben  (1540)  Tomus  3,  935-40.  Froude's 
abridgement  (op.  cit.  363)  which  I  here  cite,  taken  from  the  Leiden  edition  seems 
to  me,  by  slight  turns  in  language,  to  overemphasize  Erasmus'  position.  The 
Leiden  Edition,  1703-1709,  contains  matter  not  written  by  Erasmus,  according  to 
the  title-page,  but  such  matter  is  not  differentiated  in  the  body  of  the  work.  This 
fact  misled  Froude  into  quoting  passages  that  are  at  best  only  doubtful. 


HUMANISM  293 

beings  have  brought  their  order  into  contempt.  Careless  of  purity,  careless  what 
they  do  or  how  they  live,  the  monks  have  trusted  to  their  wealth  and  numbers  to 
crush  those  whom  they  can  no  longer  deceive.  They  pretended  that  their  clothes 
would  work  miracles,  that  they  could  bring  good  luck  into  houses  and  keep  the  devil 
out.  How  is  it  at  present?  They  used  to  be  thought  gods.  They  are  now  scarcely 
thought  honest  men. 

I  do  not  say  that  practices  good  in  themselves  should  be  condemned  because 
they  are  abused.  But  I  do  say  that  we  have  ourselves  given  the  occasion.  We  have 
no  right  to  be  surprised  or  angry,  and  we  ought  to  consider  quietly  how  best  to 
meet  the  storm.  As  things  go  now  there  will  be  no  improvement,  let  the  dice  fall 
which  way  they  will.  The  Gospellers  go  for  anarchy;  the  Catholics,  instead  of  re- 
I>enting  of  their  sins,  pile  superstition  on  superstition;  while  Luther's  disciples,  if 
such  they  be,  neglect  prayers,  neglect  the  fasts  of  the  Church,  and  eat  more  on  fast 
days  than  on  common  days.  Papal  constitutions,  clerical  privileges,  are  scorned  and 
trampled  on;  and  our  wonderful  champions  of  the  Church  do  more  than  anyone  to 
bring  the  Holy  See  into  contempt.  There  are  rumors  of  peace.  God  grant  they 
prove  true.  If  the  Emperor,  the  Pope,  and  the  Kings  of  France  and  England  can 
compose  their  differences  and  agree  on  some  common  course  of  action,  evangelical 
religion  may  be  restored.  But  we  must  deserve  our  blessings  if  we  are  to  enjoy 
them.    When  princes  go  mad,  the  fault  is  often  in  ourselves. 

This  letter  defines  the  position  of  the  humanists.  Of  course  the 
Church  had  abuses.  But  that,  on  account  of  them,  one  should 
go  to  the  other  extreme  of  the  anarchy  of  private  judgment  or 
the  fatalism  of  Luther's  Augustinianism  was  to  jump  from  the 
frying  pan  into  the  fire.  Therefore  he  was  exactly  as  much  an  op- 
ponent of  the  dogmatism  of  Luther,  of  the  Protestant  excesses,  of 
the  bibliolatiy  of  the  reformers,  and  of  the  religious  debauches 
carried  on  in  the  name  of  the  Spirit,  as  he  was  of  the  abuse  of  the 
confession,  of  pilgrimages  and  relic-worshipping,  etc.  The  result 
was  that  Erasmus  pleased  neither  party.  In  the  time  of  conflict 
the  golden  mean  has  no  friends.  Erasmus  called  loudly  for  reform 
but  insisted  that  reform  should  come  from  within  the  Church.  The 
Catholics  denied  the  first  half  of  the  proposition  and  the  Protest- 
ants the  latter.  Consequently  the  term  Erasmian  has  become  one 
of  reproach,  of  Laodicean  indifference.  Yet  surely  it  is  conceiva- 
ble that,  if  Erasmus  might  have  had  his  way,  if  the  Church  might 
have  sloughed  off  the  undoubted  evils  without  the  world  paying 
the  penalty  of  the  English  schism,  of  the  German  wars,  of  the 
Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  we  might  have  arrived  at  the  pres- 
ent state  of  grace  without  the  inherited  scars.  That  it  was  not 
IX)s.sible,  that  the  golden  mean  is  static  and  not  dynamic,  is  a  con- 
fes.sion  of  human  weakness.    Therefore  ii  is  Luther,  not  Erasmus, 


294  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

that  is  the  protagonist  of  the  Reformation.  Erasmus  was  too 
"academic."  With  the  same  clearness  of  vision  that  he  saw  the 
errors  of  the  present  Church,  he  foresaw  the  difficulties  of  the  fu- 
ture.   Hamlet-Uke, 

the  native  hue  of  resolution 
Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought; 
And  enterprises  of  great  pith  and  moment. 
With  this  regard,  their  currents  turn  awry. 
And  lose  the  name  of  action. 

The  value  of  this  analysis  of  Erasmus'  position  lies  in  the  fact 
that  to  a  large  extent  he  is  the  mouth-piece  of  English  humanism. 
As  has  been  said,  John  Dome's  day-book  shows  the  immense 
popularity  of  his  works.  Wynkyn  de  Worde  issued  three  editions 
of  the  Colloquia  and  by  1549  Challoner  translated  them  into  Eng- 
lish. The  heretical  attitude  toward  relics,  as  shown  in  the  extract 
quoted  above,  apparently  is  that  of  Colet  himself,  who  actually 
was  the  Gratian  PuUus  of  the  dialogue.  Even  the  Moria  with  its 
brilliant  irreverence  was  defended  by  More,  and  Erasmus  calls 
More  his  "twin  spirit."  And  if  this  be  so,  the  apparent  failure  of 
the  EngUsh  humanists  is  explained.  Their  intellectual  perception 
certainly  opened  the  way  for  the  man  of  action  in  Cromwell.  But 
when  their  academic  speculations  became  metamorphosed  into 
facts,  in  terror  they  threw  themselves  back  upon  the  sure  author- 
ity of  the  Church,^  repudiated  their  idle  thoughts,  and  endeavored 
to  counteract  the  harm  alreeuiy  done.  For  this  reason,  aside  from 
their  immediate  friends,  they  left  no  school  and  no  inheritors. 
This  is  the  explanation  of  the  apparent  anomaly  that,  between 
1500  and  1530,  such  a  group  of  writers  existed,  writers  hke  bea- 
cons of  modern  thought  washed  on  all  sides  by  the  waves  of  bigotry, 
superstition,  and  ignorance.  The  total  effect  upon  English  thought, 
cumulative  through  the  centuries,  is  incalculable.  Although  in  its 
immediate  effect  humanism  was  primarily  destructive  and,  as 
such,  played  its  part  in  the  separation  of  England  from  the  Papacy, 
today  only  the  specialist  knows  or  cares  for  the  temporal  issues, 
and  the  works  are  read  for  their  serenity  and  their  poise. 

Somewhat  the  same  paradox  exists  in  the  relation  of  humanists 
toward  the  great  educational  questions  of  the  age.    Here  there  is 

*  More  in  his  Dialogue  of  Images  explicitly  accepts  the  dogmatic  authority  of  the 
Church. 


HUMANISM  295 

the  same  mingling  of  destruction  and  of  construction,  and  the 
same  problem  of  the  effect  of  the  Reformation.  Consequently, 
there  is  the  same  difficulty  in  arriving  at  an  impartial  estimation 
of  the  relative  proportion  of  the  various  factors,  especially  since 
the  chief  witnesses  were  also  the  chief  actors,  and  therefore  biassed. 
In  general  it  may  be  stated  that  the  old  scholastic  system  was  de- 
ductive. From  a  combination  of  BibUcal  and  Aristotelian  pre- 
cepts it  was  held  that  all  truth  may  be  deduced,  even  that  of  the 
greatest  problems,  the  existence  of  God,  the  personality  of  the 
Trinity,  and  the  relation  of  the  Divine  to  humanity.  Thus  the 
system  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  implies  the  harmony  of  faith  and 
reason.  But  very  early  the  age-long  conflict  between  reason  and 
faith  showed  itself.  Already  in  St.  Thomas  certain  tenets  are  re- 
moved from  the  domain  of  reason  to  be  placed  with  those  belonging 
to  the  province  of  faith.  Still  others  were  added  by  Duns  Scotus, 
and  in  his  pupil  Occam  the  separation  of  theology  and  philosophy 
is  practically  completed.  But,  just  as  education  is  now  controlled 
and  regulated  by  the  State,  so  then  education  was  controlled  and 
regulated  by  the  Church.  The  effect,  therefore,  of  removing  from 
education  the  theological  speculations  that  gave  it  vitality,  was 
to  deaden  the  whole  system.  The  method  of  deductive  reasoning 
that  had  stimulated  creative  thought  in  the  great  schoolmen,  dur- 
ing the  closing  years  of  the  fifteenth  century,  was  utilized  only  in 
discovering  the  non-essential,  and  the  emphasis  was  laid  upon  the 
form,  not  upon  the  results.  In  the  revered  syllogism  it  was  the 
correctness  of  the  deduction  rather  than  the  truth  of  the  premises 
that  was  stressed.  It  is  this  mental  attitude  that  is  ridiculed  in 
the  EfistoloB  Obscurorum  Virorum} 

Our  host,  therefore,  who  is  a  humanist  of  parts,  fell  to  some  discourse  on  Poetry, 
and  greatly  belauded  Julius  Caesar,  as  touching  both  his  writings  and  his  valorous 
deeds.  So  soon  as  I  heard  this,  I  f>erceived  my  opportunity,  for  I  had  studied 
much,  and  learned  much  under  you  in  the  matter  of  Poetry,  when  I  was  at  Cologne, 
and  I  said,  "  Forasmuch  as  you  have  begun  to  speak  concerning  Poetry,  I  can  there- 
fore no  longer  hide  my  light  under  a  bushel,  and  I  roundly  aver  that  I  believe  not 
that  Casar  wrote  those  Commentaries,  and  I  will  prove  my  position  with  argument 
following,  which  runneth  thus:  Whosoever  hath  business  with  arms  and  is  occupied 
in  labour  unceasing  cannot  learn  Latin;  but  Casar  was  ever  at  War  and  in  labours 

'  Episiola  Obscurorum  Virorum,  The  Latin  Text  with  an  English  Rendering, 
Notes,  and  an  Historical  Introduction  by  Francis  Griffin  Stokes,  London,  Chatto 
&  Windus,  1000,  p.  371. 


296  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

manifold;  therefore  he  could  not  become  lettered  and  get  Latin.  In  truth,  therefore, 
I  believe  that  it  was  none  other  than  Suetonius  who  wrote  those  Commentaries,  for  I 
have  met  with  none  who  hath  a  style  liker  to  Caesar's  than  Suetonius." 

After  I  had  thus  spoken,  and  much  else  which  here,  for  brevity's  sake,  I  set  not 
down — since,  as  you  know  from  the  ancient  saw,  "The  moderns  delight  in  brev- 
ity"— Erasmus  laughed,  but  said  nothing,  for  I  had  overthrown  him  by  the  subtilty 
of  my  argument. 

The  significance  of  the  burlesque  here  Hes  in  the  attack  upon  the 
syllogism;  the  fact  that  the  book  was  by  some  accepted  at  its 
face  value  shows  that  this  attack  was  in  a  measure  deserved. 
At  least  in  the  opinion  of  the  humanists,  the  end  achieved  by  the 
educational  methods  was  in  itself  undesirable. 

As  Von  Hutten  here  uses  Erasmus  as  the  contrasting  figure  to 
scholasticism,  it  may  be  interesting  to  quote  his  attack  in  the  En- 
comion  Moriae,  where  he  pays  his  equivocal  respects  to  the  theolo- 
gians, the  finest  flower  of  the  educational  system.^ 

It  is  true,  no  men  own  a  less  dependence  on  me  (Folly),  yet  have  they  reason  to 
confess  themselves  indebted  for  no  small  obligations.  For  it  is  by  one  of  my  prop- 
erties, self-love,  that  they  fancy  themselves,  with  their  elder  brother,  Paul,  caught 
up  into  the  third  heaven,  from  whence,  like  shepherds  indeed,  they  look  down  upon 
their  flock,  the  laity,  grazing  as  it  were,  in  the  vales  of  the  world  below.  They 
fence  themselves  in  with  so  many  surrounders  of  magisterial  definitions,  conclu- 
sions, corollaries,  propositions  explicit  and  implicit,  that  there  is  no  falling  in  with 
them;  or  if  they  do  chance  to  be  urged  to  a  seeming  non-plus,  yet  they  find  out  so 
many  evasions,  that  all  the  art  of  man  can  never  bind  them  so  fast,  but  that  an 
easy  distinction  shall  give  them  a  starting-hole  to  escape  the  scandal  of  being 
bafiBed.  They  will  cut  asunder  the  toughest  argument  with  as  much  ease  as  Alexan- 
der did  the  gordian  knot;  they  will  thunder  out  so  many  rattling  terms  as  shall 
fright  an  adversary  into  conviction.  They  are  exquisitely  dexterous  in  unfolding 
the  most  intricate  mysteries;  they  will  tell  you  to  a  tittle  all  the  successive  proceed- 
ings of  Omnipotence  in  the  creation  of  the  universe;  they  will  explain  the  precise 
manner  of  original  sin  being  derived  from  our  first  parents;  they  will  satisfy  you 
in  what  manner,  by  what  degrees,  and  in  how  long  a  time,  our  Saviour  was  con- 
ceived in  the  Virgin's  womb,  and  demonstrate  in  the  consecrated  wafer  how  acci- 
dents may  subsist  without  a  subject.  Nay,  these  are  accounted  trivial,  easy  ques- 
tions; they  have  yet  far  greater  diflSculties  behind,  which  notwithstanding  they 
solve  with  as  much  expedition  as  the  former;  as  namely,  whether  supernatural 
generation  requires  any  instant  of  time  for  its  acting?  whether  Christ,  as  a  son, 
bears  a  double  specifically  distinct  relation  to  Grod  the  Father,  and  his  virgin  mother? 
whether  this  prop>osition  is  possible  to  be  true,  the  first  person  of  the  Trinity  hated 
the  second?  whether  God,  who  took  our  nature  upon  him  in  the  form  of  a  man, 

'  Erasmus  in  Praise  of  Folly,  London,  1876,  pp.  121-129. 


HUMANISM  297 

could  as  well  have  become  a  woman,  a  devil,  a  beast,  a  herb,  or  a  stone?  and  were 
it  so  possible  that  the  Godhead  had  appeared  in  any  shape  of  an  inanimate  sub- 
stance, how  he  should  then  have  preached  his  gospel?  or  how  have  been  nailed  to 
the  cross?  whether  if  St.  Peter  had  celebrated  the  eucharist  at  the  same  time  our 
Saviour  was  hanging  on  the  cross,  the  consecrated  bread  would  have  been  tran- 
substantiated into  the  same  body  that  remained  on  the  tree?  whether  in  Christ's 
corporal  presence  in  the  sacramental  wafer,  his  humanity  be  not  abstracted  from  his 
Godhead?  whether  after  the  resurrection  we  shall  carnally  eat  and  drink  as  we  do  in 
this  life?  There  are  a  thousand  other  more  sublimated  and  refined  niceties  of  no- 
tions, relations,  quantities,  formalities,  quiddities,  hsecceities,  and  such  like  ab- 
strusities, as  one  would  think  no  one  could  pry  into,  except  he  had  not  only  such 
cat's  eyes  as  to  see  best  in  the  dark,  but  even  such  a  piercing  faculty  as  to  see  through 
an  inch-board,  and  spy  out  what  really  never  had  any  being.  Add  to  these  some  of 
their  tenets  and  opinions,  which  are  so  absurd  and  extravagant,  that  the  wildest 
fancies  of  the  Stoicks  which  they  so  much  disdain  and  decry  as  paradoxes,  seem  in 
comparison  just  and  rational;  as  their  maintaining,  that  it  is  a  less  aggravating 
fault  to  kill  a  hundred  men,  than  for  a  poor  cobbler  to  set  a  stitch  on  the  sabbath- 
day;  or,  that  it  is  more  justifiable  to  do  the  greatest  injury  imaginable  to  others, 
than  to  tell  the  least  lie  ourselves.  And  these  subtilties  are  alchymized  to  a  more 
refined  sublimate  by  the  abstracting  brains  of  their  several  schoolmen;  the  Realists, 
the  Nominalists,  the  Thomists,  the  Albertists,  the  Occamists,  the  Scotists;  and  these 
are  not  all,  but  the  rehearsal  of  a  few  only,  as  a  specimen  of  their  divided  sects;  in 
each  of  which  there  is  so  much  of  deep  learning,  so  much  of  unfathomable  diflBculty, 
that  I  believe  the  apostles  themselves  would  stand  in  need  of  a  new  illuminating 
spirit,  if  they  were  to  engage  in  any  controversy  with  these  new  divines.  St.  Paul, 
no  question,  had  a  full  measure  of  faith;  yet  when  he  lays  down  faith  to  be  the  sub- 
stance of  things  not  seen,  these  men  carp  at  it  for  an  imperfect  definition,  and  would 
undertake  to  teach  the  apostles  better  logic.  Thus  the  same  holy  author  wanted 
for  nothing  of  the  grace  of  charity,  yet  (say  they)  he  describes  and  defines  it  but  very 
inaccurately,  when  he  treats  of  it  in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  his  first  epistle  to  the 
Corinthians.  The  primitive  disciples  were  very  frequent  in  administering  the  holy 
sacrament,  breaking  bread  from  house  to  house;  yet  should  they  be  asked  of  the 
Terminus  a  quo  and  the  Terminus  ad  quem,  the  nature  of  transubstantiation?  the 
manner  how  one  body  can  be  in  several  places  at  the  same  time?  the  difference 
betwixt  the  several  attributes  of  Christ  in  heaven,  on  the  cross,  and  in  the  conse- 
crated bread?  what  time  is  required  for  the  transubstantiating  the  bread  into  flesh? 
how  it  can  be  done  by  a  short  sentence  pronounced  by  the  priest,  which  sentence  is  a 
species  of  discreet  quantity,  that  has  no  permanent  punctumf  Were  they  asked  (I 
say)  these,  and  several  other  confused  queries,  I  do  not  believe  they  could  answer  so 
readily  as  our  mincing  school-men  now-a-days  take  a  pride  to  do.  They  were  well 
acquainted  with  the  Virgin  Mary,  yet  none  of  them  undertook  to  prove  that  she  was 
preserved  immaculate  from  original  sin,  as  some  of  our  divines  very  hotly  contend 
for.  St.  Peter  had  the  keys  given  to  him,  and  that  by  our  Saviour  himself,  who 
had  never  entrusted  him  except  he  had  known  him  capable  of  their  manage  and 
custody;  and  yet  it  is  much  to  be  questioned  whether  Peter  was  sensible  of  that 
Bubtilty  broached  by  Scotus,  that  he  may  have  the  key  of  knowledge  effectually 
for  others,  who  has  no  knowledge  actually  in  himself.    Again,  they  baptized  all 


298  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

nations,  and  yet  never  taught  what  was  the  formal,  material,  efficient,  and  final 
cause  of  baptism,  and  certainly  never  dreamt  of  distinguishing  between  a  delible 
and  an  indelible  character  in  this  sacrament.  They  worshipped  in  the  spirit,  follow- 
ing their  master's  injunction,  God  is  a  spirit,  and  they  which  worship  him,  must 
worship  him  in  spirit,  and  in  truth;  yet  it  does  not  appear  that  it  was  ever  revealed 
to  them  how  divine  adoration  should  be  paid  at  the  same  time  to  oiu*  blessed  Saviour 
in  heaven,  and  to  his  picture  here  below  on  a  wall,  drawn  with  two  fingers  held  out, 
a  bald  crown,  and  a  circle  round  his  head.  To  reconcile  these  intricacies  to  an  ap- 
pearance of  reason  requires  three-score  year's  experience  in  metaphysics.  Farther, 
the  apostles  often  mention  Grace,  yet  never  distinguish  between  gratia,  gratis  data, 
and  gratia  gratificans.  They  earnestly  exhort  us  likewise  to  good  works,  yet  never 
explain  the  difference  between  Opiis  operans,  and  Opus  operatum.  They  very 
frequently  press  and  invite  us  to  seek  after  charity,  without  dividing  it  into  infused 
and  acquired,  or  determining  whether  it  be  a  substance  or  an  accident,  a  created  or 
an  imcreated  being.  They  detested  sin  themselves,  and  warned  others  from  the 
commission  of  it;  and  yet  I  am  sure  they  could  never  have  defined  so  dogmatically, 
as  the  Scotists  have  since  done.  St.  Paul,  who  in  other's  judgment  is  no  less  the 
chief  of  the  apostles,  than  he  was  in  his  own  the  chief  of  sinners,  who  being  bred  at 
the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  was  certainly  more  eminently  a  scholar  than  any  of  the  rest, 
yet  he  often  exclaims  against  vain  philosophy,  warns  us  from  doting  about  ques- 
tions and  strifes  of  words,  and  charges  us  to  avoid  profane  and  vain  babblings,  and 
oppositions  of  science  falsely  so  called;  which  he  would  not  have  done,  if  he  had 
thought  it  worth  his  while  to  have  become  acquainted  with  them,  which  he  might 
soon  have  been,  the  disputes  of  that  age  being  but  small,  and  more  intelligible 
sophisms,  in  reference  to  the  vastly  greater  intricacies  they  are  now  improved  to. 
But  yet,  however,  our  scholastic  divines  are  so  modest,  that  if  they  meet  with  any 
passage  in  St.  Paul,  or  any  other  penman  of  holy  writ,  which  is  not  so  well  modelled, 
or  critically  disposed  of,  as  they  could  wish,  they  will  not  roughly  condemn  it,  but 
bend  it  rather  to  a  favorable  interpretation,  out  of  reverence  to  antiquity,  and 
respect  to  the  holy  scriptures;  though  indeed  it  were  unreasonable  to  expect  any- 
thing of  this  nature  from  the  apostles,  whose  lord  and  master  had  ^ven  unto  them 
to  know  the  mysteries  of  God,  but  not  those  of  philosophy.  If  the  same  divines 
meet  with  anything  of  like  nature  unpalatable  in  St.  Chrysostom,  St.  Basil,  St. 
Hierom,  or  others  of  the  fathers,  they  will  not  stick  to  appeal  from  their  authority, 
and  very  fairly  resolve  that  they  lay  under  a  mistake.  Yet  these  ancient  fathers 
were  they  who  confuted  both  the  Jews  and  Heathens,  though  they  both  obstinately 
adhered  to  their  respective  prejudices;  they  confuted  them  (I  say),  yet  by  their 
lives  and  miracles,  rather  than  by  words  and  syllogisms;  and  the  persons  they  thus 
proselyted  were  downright  honest,  well  meaning  people,  such  as  understood  plain 
sense  better  than  any  artificial  pomp  of  reasoning:  whereas  if  our  divines  should 
now  set  about  the  gaining  converts  from  paganism  by  their  metaphysical  subtilties, 
they  would  find  that  most  of  the  persons  they  applied  themselves  to  were  either  so 
ignorant  as  not  at  all  to  apprehend  them,  or  so  impudent  as  to  scoff  and  deride 
them;  or  finally,  so  well  skilled  at  the  same  weapons,  that  they  would  be  able  to 
keep  their  pass,  and  fence  off  all  assaults  of  conviction:  and  this  last  way  the  victory 
would  be  altogether  as  hopeless,  as  if  two  persons  were  engaged  of  so  equal  strength, 
that  it  were  impossible  any  one  should  overpower  the  other. 


HUMANISM  299 

And  Folly  ends  by  recommending  that  all  such  divines  should  be 
sent  on  a  crusade  against  the  Turk.  In  so  far  as  Folly  here  speaks 
with  the  voice  of  Erasmus  and  his  humanist  brethren,  the  conclu- 
sion is  inevitable  that  they  were  in  complete  reaction  against  the 
products  of  the  medieval  system  of  education. 

Disliking  the  results  achieved,  the  humanists  also  disliked  the 
methods  by  which  those  results  were  produced.  The  whole  sys- 
tem of  medieval  education,  founded  upon  the  "  dispute  "  as  a  means 
to  promote  intellectual  subtlety,  seemed  to  them  an  abomination. 
Since  the  object  was  not  truth  but  mental  agility,  the  result  was 
wrangling  over  the  non-essential.    As  Vives  expresses  it:  ^ 

Even  the  youngest  scholars  (tyrones)  are  accustomed  never  to  keep  silence;  they 
are  always  asserting  vigourously  whatever  comes  uppermost  in  their  minds,  lest 
they  should  seem  to  be  giving  up  the  dispute.  Nor  does  one  disputation  or  even  two 
each  day  prove  sufficient,  as  for  instance  at  dinner.  They  wrangle  at  breakfast; 
they  wrangle  after  breakfast;  before  supper  they  wrangle,  and  they  wrangle  after 
supper.  ...  At  home  they  dispute  over  their  food,  in  the  bath,  in  the  sweating- 
room,  in  the  church,  in  the  town,  in  the  country,  in  public,  in  private;  at  all  times 
they  are  wrangling. 

And  this  training  was  carried  on  even  into  the  advanced  stages 
of  education.  In  the  following  passage,  it  is  no  longer  the  voice  of 
Folly,  it  is  Erasmus  speaking.^ 

.  ,  .  the  principal  part  of  this  evil  seems  to  me  to  arise  from  the  public  schools, 
which  they  now  ambitiously  term  universities,  as  tho  nothing  pertaining  to  good 
discipline  were  wanting;  then  from  the  monasteries,  especially  those  in  which  they 
are  taught  evangelical  doctrine,  such  as  are  the  Dominicans',  the  Franciscans',  and 
the  Augustinian  monasteries.  For  in  these  the  students,  after  scarcely  three 
months  had  been  given  to  a  study  of  grammar,  are  incontinently  hurried  away  to 
sophistry,  dialectics,  suppositions,  amplifications,  restrictions,  expositions,  and 
solutions  of  unsolvable  questions,  such  as  concerning  griffins  and  the  Labyrinth; 
from  thence  immediately  into  the  mysteries  of  divinity.  Such  students,  when  they 
have  come  to  those  authors  who  excell  in  the  eloquence  of  both  classic  languages, 
how  blind  they  were,  how  ignorant,  how  they  thought  themselves  in  another  world. 

That  such  statements  are  extreme  is  clear  at  a  glance  from  the 
authors  read  by  the  scholastic  Skelton,  whose  knowledge  of  classi- 
cal literature  is  curiously  comprehensive  ';  yet  it  is  significant  that 

'  J.  L.  Vives,  Dialogtie*  of  a  Tudor  Schoolboy  {Lingua  Laiina  ExercUatio)  trans- 
lated by  Foster  Watson,  Preface. 

*  Erasmus,  Dialogua  de  Pronuniiatione. 
»  Chapter  iii,  pp.  156-7. 


300  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

a  man  of  Erasmus'  position  in  a  serious  work  should  dare  make 
them  at  all,  in  that  it  shows  to  what  a  depth  the  scholastic  sys- 
tem has  sunk  in  popular  estimation. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  actual  condition,  so  long  as 
the  humanists  professed  such  an  estimate  of  scholastic  education, 
clearly  one  of  their  chief  aims  would  be  to  replace  that  system  by 
one  more  in  accordance  with  their  ideals,  and  to  provide  schools 
in  which  it  might  be  practiced.  It  is,  therefore,  perfectly  normal 
that  the  end  of  the  first  decade  of  the  sixteenth  century  should 
see  the  establishment  of  the  first  of  the  new  type  of  school.  Dean 
Colet's  celebrated  foundation  of  St.  Paul's.  The  most  author- 
itative description  of  this  is  given  us  by  Erasmus.^ 

Upon  the  death  of  his  father,  when  by  right  of  inheritance  he  was  possessed  of  a 
good  sum  of  money;  lest  the  keeping  of  it  should  corrupt  his  mind,  and  turn  it  too 
much  toward  the  world,  he  laid  out  a  great  part  of  it  in  building  a  new  school  in  the 
churchyard  of  St.  Paul's,  dedicated  to  the  child  Jesus:  a  magnificent  fabric;  to  which 
he  added  two  dwelling-houses  for  the  two  several  masters:  and  to  them  he  allotted 
ample  salaries,  that  they  might  teach  a  certain  number  of  boys,  free,  and  for  the 
sake  of  charity.  He  divided  the  school  into  four  apartments.  The  first,  viz.  the 
porch  and  entrance,  is  for  catechumens,  or  the  children  to  be  instructed  in  the  prin- 
ciples of  religion;  where  no  child  is  to  be  admitted,  but  what  can  read  and  write. 
The  second  apartment  is  for  the  lower  boys,  to  be  taught  by  the  second  master,  or 
usher:  the  third  for  the  upper  forms,  under  the  headmaster:  which  two  parts  of  the 
school  are  divided  by  a  curtain,  to  be  drawn  at  pleasure.  Over  the  master's  chair 
is  an  image  of  the  child  Jesus,  of  admirable  work,  in  the  gesture  of  teaching;  whom 
all  the  boys,  going  and  coming,  salute  with  a  short  hymn:  and  there  is  a  representa- 
tion of  God  the  Father,  saying.  Hear  ye  him;  these  words  being  written  at  my  sug- 
gestion. The  fourth  or  last  apartment  is  a  little  chapel  for  divine  service.  The 
school  has  no  comers  or  hiding  places;  nothing  like  a  cell  or  closet.  The  boys  have 
their  distinct  forms,  or  benches,  one  above  another.  Every  form  holds  sixteen;  and 
he  that  is  head  or  captain  of  each  form  has  a  little  kind  of  desk  by  way  of  preemi- 
nence. They  are  not  to  admit  all  boys  of  course,  but  to  choose  them  in  according  to 
their  parts  and  capacities.  The  wise  and  sagacious  founder  saw  that  the  greatest 
hopes  and  happiness  of  the  commonwealth  were  in  the  training  up  of  children  to 
good  letters  and  true  religion:  for  which  noble  purpose  he  laid  out  an  immense  sum 
of  money:  and  yet  he  would  admit  no  one  to  bear  a  share  in  this  expense.  Some 
person  having  left  a  legacy  of  one  hundred  pounds  sterling  toward  the  fabric  of  the 
school,  dean  Colet  perceived  a  design  in  it,  and,  by  leave  of  the  Bishop,  got  that 
money  to  be  laid  out  upon  the  vestments  of  the  church  of  St.  Paul.  After  he  had 
finished  all,  he  left  the  perpetual  care  and  oversight  of  the  estate,  and  government 
of  it,  not  to  the  clergy,  not  to  the  bishop,  not  to  the  chapter,  nor  to  any  great 
minister  at  court;  but  amongst  the  married  laymen,  to  the  company  of  mercers, 

^  Quoted  in  Knight's  Life  of  Colet,  pp.  98-101. 


HUMANISM  801 

men  of  probity  and  reputation.  And  when  he  was  asked  the  reason  of  so  committing 
this  trust,  he  answered  to  this  effect:  That  there  was  no  absolute  certainty  in  human 
affairs;  but  for  his  part,  he  found  less  corruption  in  such  a  body  of  citizens,  than  in 
any  other  order  or  degree  of  mankind. 

Following  Colet's  example,  during  the  reign  of  Henry  VIH  forty- 
eight  grammar  schools  were  founded,  and,  before  Elizabeth's,  many 
of  the  colleges  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  came  into  being.^  In  Ox- 
ford, Corpus  Christi  was  founded  in  1516;  Christ  Church,  in  1526; 
Trinity,  in  1554;  St.  John's,  in  1555;  and  in  Cambridge,  Christi, 
in  1506;  St.  John's,  in  1511;  Magdalen,  in  1542;  Trinity,  in  1546; 
Gonville  and  Caius,  in  1557.  Such  facts  as  these  just  quoted  are 
impressive,  but  it  should  be  remembered  that  in  very  many  cases 
with  the  transference  of  the  educational  burden  from  the  Church 
to  the  state,  they  represent  merely  a  transformation.  Nor  is  the 
inference  justified  that  they  show  an  increase  in  learning.  As 
Benson  shows, '^  exactly  the  reverse  was  true,  because  while  in  1535 
in  Oxford  one  hundred  and  eight  men  graduated,  in  1536  the 
number  had  fallen  to  forty-four,  and  up  to  the  end  of  Henry's 
reign  the  average  was  but  fifty-seven.  At  Cambridge  Fuller 
quaintly  confesses:  ^ 

There  was  now  a  generall  decay  of  students,  no  CoUedge  having  more  scholars 
therein  then  hardly  those  of  the  foundation,  no  Volunteers  at  all,  and  only  -persona 
■pressed  in  a  manner  by  their  places  to  reside.  Indeed  on  the  fall  of  Abbeys  fell  the 
hearts  of  all  Scholars,  fearing  the  ruin  of  learning. 

Such  a  condition  seems  comprehensible.  The  destructive  force 
of  humanism,  combined  with  the  destructive  force  of  the  Reforma- 
tion was  greater  than  the  constructive.  While  the  old  had  been 
swept  aside,  the  new  conceptions  were  more  than  the  country 
could  assimilate.  It  is  what  would  be  naturally  expected  from  so 
complete  a  reversal  of  educational  ideals. 

The  whole  program  of  the  humanists  is  expressed  in  the  phrase 
in  Erasmus'  account  of  Colet,  that  Knight  renders  "good  letters 

*  These  figures  are  quoted  from  Comelie  Benndorf,  Die  Engliaehe  Pddagogik  im 
16.  Jahrhundert,  Wien,  1905. 

*  The  Rev.  R.  H.  Benson,  Chapter  iii.  Vol.  iii  of  the  Cambridge  History  of  English 
Literature. 

*  The  History  of  the  University  of  Cambridge,  1655;  this  appears  as  a  sort  of  an 
appendix  to  his  Church  History.    Page  1£1. 


302  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

and  true  religion,"  bonis  raiionihus}  Clearly  Knight  has  read 
into  the  indefinite  ratio  of  Erasmus  what  were  to  be  the  two 
fundamentals  of  English  education.  If  the  phrase  be  extended  to 
classical  literature  and  the  Protestant  religion, — a  zeugma  foreign 
to  Colet's  intentions, — ^the  development  of  the  schools  will  be 
indicated.  For  here,  also,  as  in  so  many  other  places,  the 
humanists  unconsciously  paved  the  way  for  the  Reformation. 
Back  of  the  whole  Renaissance  movement  there  was  a  subtle  shift- 
ing of  emphasis  from  the  claims  of  the  next  world  to  those  of 
this,  and  a  development  of  the  rationalistic  point  of  view.^  With 
the  greater  claims  of  the  world  upon  the  human  faculties  the 
educational  ideals  in  which  the  study  of  theology  was  paramount 
gave  place  to  an  education  both  more  broad  and  less  intense. 
More  attention  was  given  to  holy  Uving  than  to  holy  dying.  Partly 
in  reaction  from  the  former  ages,  and  partly  from  necessity,  the 
humanists  preached  the  paradox  that  the  ideal  training  for  a 
Christian  life  is  given  by  an  intimate  knowledge  of  pagan  authors. 
As  a  result,  in  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  English 
race  threw  aside  the  accumulated  experience  of  a  millenium, 
the  methods  of  the  schoolmen  were  discarded  as  futile,  and  their 
language  branded  as  barbarous.  The  wind  whirled  the  leaves 
of  Dims  Scotus  through  the  courts  of  Oxford,  and  gothic  became  a 
term  of  reproach.  Latin  was  the  gateway  of  learning,  a  knowl- 
edge of  Horace  the  stamp  of  the  educated  gentleman,  and  famil- 
iarity with  classical  hterature  the  aim  of  the  scholar. 

Of  the  three  great  northern  scholars  at  the  beginning  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  Erasmus,  Budaeus,  and  Vives,^  it  was  the 
last  that  formulated  the  coming  pedagogy.  Erasmus'  Institutio 
Principis  Christiani  (1527)  gives  rather  general  advice  and  rules  of 
conduct,^  and  Budaeus'  De  V Institution  du  Prince  (1547)  comes 

*  The  entire  sentence  in  Latin  is  VidU  illud  vir  perspicacisnmus,  in  hoc  ease  prceci- 
jmam  reiptMicce  spem,  si  prima  oetas  bonis  rationibus  instUueretur. 

'This  is  stated,  certainly  as  strongly  as  I  have,  by  Pontanus,  Opera,  Basel, 
1566,  T.  1,  pp.  981-982. 

*  The  sequence,  humanism  producing  rationalism  and  rationalism  producing  the 
Reformation,  is  illustrated  by  these  three  men.  To  each,  although  a  good  Roman- 
ist, was  imputed  heretical  opinions,  and  some  of  the  works  of  each  at  some  time 
were  placed  on  the  Index. 

*  The  difference  between  Erasmus  and  Vives  is  best  illustrated  by  a  comparison 
of  the  CoUoquia  with  the  Linguoe  Laiince  Exerdtatio.    Although  the  advowed  aim  of 


HUMANISM  SOS 

too  late  to  have  much  effect  upon  the  first  half  century.  It  is  curi- 
ous that  of  the  three,  two  should  have  been  connected  with  Eng- 
land. In  1523  the  young  Spaniard  Juan  Luis  Vives  (1492-1540) 
came  to  England,  was  made  D.C.L.  at  Oxford,  lectured  there, 
and  was  appointed  to  superintend  the  education  of  the  Princess 
Mary.  In  1528,  apparently  on  account  of  the  partisanship  with 
which  he  espoused  the  cause  of  Queen  Katherine,  he  was  im- 
prisoned for  six  weeks,  and  finally  banished  from  the  country. 
During  these  five  years  his  published  works,  De  raiione  studii 
puerilis  (Oxford  1523),  consisting  of  two  outlines  of  study, 
the  first  written  for  the  Princess  Mary  giving  the  studies  for 
girls  and  the  second  written  for  Charles  Montjoy  giving  the 
studies  for  boys,  and  the  Introductio  ad  sapientiam  (Bruges  1524), 
a  series  of  aphorisms,  practically  gave  the  foundations  of  his 
educational  theories.  These  he  elaborated  into  the  great  De 
disciplinis  (1531),  in  which  the  system  is  explained  and  defended. 
Consequently  in  1523,  at  Oxford,  the  theory  of  humanistic  edu- 
cation was  first  enunciated. 

In  general,  Vives'  aim  is  the  attainment  of  both  the  heavenly 
and  the  earthly  ideal.  ^  Thus  the  central  doctrine  of  his  peda- 
gogical theory  is  based  upon  virtue  and  upon  practical  excellence 
gained  by  Christian  education  and  by  logical  development.  What- 
ever does  not  serve  this  end  is  worthless;  nothing  should  be  striven 
for  except  the  paths  of  wisdom.  Harmonious  upbuilding  of  soul 
and  body,  in  theory  and  in  practice,  in  developing  the  mentality 
and  in  imparting  material  knowledge,  is  the  way  by  which  this 
end  Ls  to  be  attained.  He  therefore  substitutes  for  the  scholastic 
deductive  method  practically  an  inductive  method,  in  which 
both  teacher  and  pupil  work  together.  Consequently  there  is 
a  similarity  between  his  theories  and  those  of  Bacon.'^  The 
materials  to  be  used  in  this  soul  development  are  to  be  found 
in  the  Latin  writers.     Necessarily  therefore  the  ability  to  read 

each  U  to  teach  Latin,  Erasmus  develops  a  dramatic  dialogue;  Vives  remains  only 
a  school  book.  Although  the  CoUoquia  is,  therefore,  per]>etually  interesting,  as  a 
school  book  the  ExercUatit  is  more  successful. 

'  I  am  here  practically  quoting  from  Franz  Kuypers,  Vivet  in  leiner  pddagogik, 
Kiel  1897. 

*  Cf.  Rudolf  GUnther,  Inweixoeit  hat  Ludmg  Vivea  die  Ideen  Bacons  von  Vendam 
vorbereiietf    Leipzig,  1012. 


304  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Latin  fluently  is  to  be  attained  as  early  as  possible.  To  accomplish 
this,  Latin  should  be  used  both  in  speaking  and  in  original  com- 
position, correctness  being  gained  by  hearing  it  correctly  spoken 
and  studying  it  correctly  written  rather  than  by  memorizing 
grammatical  rules.  Thus  simultaneously  with  the  acquiring  of 
the  language  the  pupil  is  learning  virtuous  precepts,  the  language 
being  valued  only  as  the  medium  of  imparting  moral  precepts. 
At  the  same  time  the  body  should  be  exercised  {mens  sana  in 
corpore  sano)  that  both  may  grow  into  an  harmonious  whole. 

Since  Vives  belongs  to  the  Oxford  group  and  was  a  friend  of 
Erasmus,  Sir  Thomas  More,  Linacre,  and  others,  the  revolutionary 
theories  which  he  put  forward  even  as  early  as  1523  may  be  con- 
sidered as  representing  their  views.  Li  any  case  the  next  publica- 
tion of  this  type  belongs  to  this  group.  This  is  the  Govemour  of 
Sir  Thomas  Elyot.^  The  son  of  a  barrister,  he  was  apparently 
educated  at  home,  for  in  the  proheme  to  the  Castell  of  HeUh  he 
gives  the  following  accounts  of  his  studies:  ^ 

For  before  that  I  was  twentie  yeres  olde,  a  woorshipfull  physicion,  and  one  of  the 
moste  renoumed  at  that  time  in  England,  preceyuing  me  by  nature  enclyned  to 
knowledge,  radde  vnto  me  the  workes  of  Galene  of  temperamentes,  naturall  facul- 
ties, the  introduction  of  Johanncicius,  with  some  of  the  Aphorismes  of  Hippocrates. 
And  afterwards  by  mine  owne  studi,  I  radde  ouer  in  order  the  more  parte  of  the 
workes  of  Hippocrates,  Galenus,  Oribasius,  Paulus  Celius,  Alexander  Trallianus 
Celsus,  Plinius  the  one  and  the  other,  with  Dioscorides.  Nor  I  dyd  omitte  to  read 
the  long  canones  of  Auicenna,  the  commentaries  of  Auerroys,  the  practises  of  Isake, 
Haliabbas,  Rasis,  Mesue,  and  also  the  more  parte  of  them  whiche  were  their  ag- 
gregatours  and  followers.  And  although  I  haue  neuer  bene  at  Mountpillier,  Padua, 
nor  Salem,  yet  haue  I  found  some  thing  in  physicke,  wherby  I  haue  taken  no  littell 
profite  conceminge  myne  owne  helth. 

Not  only  is  this  passage  interesting  as  showing  the  breadth  and 
amount  of  reading  of  a  young  man  of  twenty,  it  is  also  the  basis 

^  The  definitive  edition  of  The  Boke  named  the  Govemour,  is  that  edited  by  Henry 
Herbert  Stephen  Croft,  1883.  Mr.  Croft  has  not  only  given  the  authoritative  text, 
he  has  included  so  many  parallel  passages  from  other  authors  that  his  edition  is 
almost  a  compendium  of  the  entire  movement. 

*  The  CasteU  of  HeUh  corrected  and  in  some  places  augmented,  by  the  first  author 
thereof,  sir  Thomas  Elyot  knight  the  yere  of  our  lord  1541.  This  title,  in  the  copy  in 
the  Yale  Library,  is  in  a  frame  on  which  is  the  date  1534.  For  the  explanation  of 
this  curious  discrepancy,  cf.  Croft,  Vol.  I,  p.  cvi.  It  is  to  be  noted,  however,  that 
the  text  differs  from  that  quoted  by  him,  p.  xxxix. 


HUMANISM  305 

for  the  assumption  that  he  studied  with  Linacre.*  Fortunately 
we  have  more  definite  information  concerning  his  relationship 
with  another  of  the  group,  Sir  Thomas  More.  Aside  from  Staple- 
ton's  statement  that  both  Elyot  and  his  wife  attended  the  school 
of  More  for  Uteraiy  studies, — ^a  statement  that  represents  prob- 
ably the  Uterary  tradition  of  a  half  century  ^  rather  than  a 
fact, —  in  Elyot 's  letter  to  Cromwell,  to  be  dated  probably  in 
1536,  we  have  the  following  sentence.^ 

I  therefor  beseche  your  goode  lordship  now  to  lay  apart  the  remembraunce  of  the 
amity  betwene  me  and  sir  Thomas  More,  which  was  but  usque  ad  araa,  as  is  the 
proverb,  consydering  that  I  was  never  so  moche  addict  unto  hym  as  I  was  unto 
truthe  and  fidelity  toward  my  soveraigne  lorde  as  godd  is  my  juge. 

Without  attempting  to  define  the  exact  meaning  of  the  phrase 
"but  usque  ad  araSy"  we  may  at  the  least  infer  that  his  friendship 
with  More  was  suflficient  to  call  into  question  his  loyalty  to  his 
king.*  Another  inference  may  be  made,  namely,  that  English 
humanism  has  now  identified  itself  with  the  "true  religion. "  This 
is  the  transitional  stage  to  the  third,  to  be  found  in  Ascham, 
where  such  identification  has  become  both  complete  and  passion- 
ate. 

The  rapidity  of  the  growth  of  the  movement  is  indicated  by  the 
fact  that,  although  there  is  an  interval  of  eight  years  between  the 
appearance  of  Vives*  work  (1523)  and  the  Gouemour  (1531),  actu- 
ally the  authors  were  contemporaries,  while  Ascham  (b.  1515)  pub- 
lished his  Tox(yphilus  only  thirteen  years  after  the  Gouemour;  again, 
although  the  Scholemasier  is  ostensibly  due  to  a  conversation  held 
in  1563,  and  confessedly  modified  by  the  views  of  John  Sturm, 
the  precepts  in  it  are  based  upon  the  teachings  of  Cheke  and 

*  To  me  this  seems  improbable.  The  passage  was  written  to  justify  Elyot's  right 
to  authorship  of  a  book  on  medicine.  As  Linacre  had  been  appointed  royal  physi- 
cian, and  as  his  reputation  was  very  great,  surely,  had  Elyot  studied  with  him,  he 
would  have  emphasized  that  fact  here.  Since  he  does  not,  certainly  the  assumption 
is  contrary  to  the  usual  statement. 

*  Stapleton's  Tret  Thomae  was  published  in  1588. 

*  Croft,  op.  eit.,  p.  cxxx  et  aeq.,  where  a  discussion  of  this  point  may  be  found. 

*  In  the  ChUiadis  Tertiae  Centuria,  Erasmus's  comment  on  the  phrase  is:  Ad- 
monet  prouerbium,  nonnunque,  quo  consularaus  amicorum  commodis,  eorumque 
uoluntati  morem  geramus,  fas  uideri  pauhihira  &  recto  deflectere,  uerum  eatenus, 
ne  propter  hominem  amicum  numinis  reucrcntiam  uiolemus. 


306  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  Cambridge  men,  and  reflect  the  educational  theories  of  the 
second  half  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  As  More  was  executed 
while  Ascham  was  still  studying  at  Cambridge,  the  personal 
relation  between  these  two  was  practically  nil.  Yet,  as  it  was  he 
that  was  chosen  by  More's  daughter,  Margaret  Roper,  to  be  the 
instructor  of  her  children,  the  inference  is  allowable  that  she 
regarded  Ascham  as  the  one  that  best  continued  her  father's 
theories.  Not  a  matter  of  inference  is  his  acquaintanceship  with 
Elyot,  since  he  himself  tells  us  that  "I  was  ones  in  companye 
wyth  syr  Thomas  Eliot  Knight,  which  surelie  for  his  lerning  in 
all  kynde  of  knowlege  bringeth  much  worshyp  to  all  the  nobilitie 
of  Englande.  .  .  .  "  ^  The  continuity  is  thus  unbroken,  and  it 
is  possible  to  deal  with  the  collective  results. 

It  is  possible  to  deal  with  the  collective  results  because  in  a  cer- 
tain sense  the  humanists  did  not  pretend  to  originaUty.  In  fact, 
as  they  conceived  it,  their  mission  lay  in  transmitting  to  England 
the  culture  that  had  been  lost.  Their  work  was  in  building  fresh 
constructions  from  bricks  mellowed  by  time.  The  numerous  cita- 
tions from  classic  authors  were  not  primarily  due  to  intellectual 
honesty,  but  rather  to  intellectual  pride.  This  is  the  attitude  shown 
in  the  passage  already  quoted  from  Elyot 's  Castell  of  Helih.  His 
justification  for  having  written  such  a  book  was  not  that  by  care- 
ful experiment  he  had  arrived  at  the  conclusions  given,  but  that 
he  had  studied  the  matter  in  a  number  of  authorities.  His  books 
are  the  result  of  his  reading  exactly  as  his  Latin-English  diction- 
ary is  the  result  of  his  reading, — ^and  for  the  same  purpose  of  help- 
ing others.  His  attitude  and  his  method  is  most  clearly  seen  in 
the  preface  to  The  Image  of  Gouemaunce:  ^ 

As  I  late  was  serchinge  amonge  my  boks,  to  fynde  some  argument,  in  the  read- 
ynge  whereof  I  mought  recreate  my  spyrytes,  beynge  almost  fatigate  with  the  longe 
studye  aboute  the  correctynge  and  ampliatyng  of  my  Dictionaric,  of  Latin  and 
Englyshe,  I  happened  to  fynde  certeyne  quayres  of  paper,  whiche  I  had  wrytten 
about  nine  yeres  passed:  wherein  were  conteigned  the  actes  and  sentences  notable, 
of  the  moste  noble  Emperour  Alexander,  for  his  wysedome  and  grauitie  called 

^  Toxophilua,  Arber's  Reprints,  p.  86. 

*  The  Image  of  Gouemaunce  compiled  of  the  actes  and  sentences  notable,  of  the  most 
noble  emperour  Alexander  Seuerus,  late  translated  out  of  Greke  into  Englyshe,  by  Sir 
Thomas  Elyote  knyght,  in  thefauour  of  Nobilitee.  Anno.  M.  D.  LVI.  By  William 
Seres. 


HUMANISM  807 

Seuerus,  whiche  boke  was  fyrst  wrytten  in  the  Greke  tonge  by  his  secretarie  named 
Eucolpius,  and  by  good  chaunce  was  lente  unto  me  by  a  gentill  man  of  Naples  called 
Pudericus,  In  readinge  whereof  I  was  maruailouselie  rauysshed,  and  as  it  hath  been 
euer  mine  appetye,  I  wysshed  that  it  hadde  been  publyshed  in  suche  a  toungue, 
as  moe  men  mought  miderstande  it.  Wherefore  with  all  diligence  I  endeuoured  my- 
selfe  whiles  I  had  leysour,  to  translate  it  into  englyshe:  all  be  it  I  coulde  not  so 
exactly  performe  mine  enterprise,  as  I  mought  haue  done,  if  the  owner  had  not  im- 
portunately called  for  his  boke,  whereby  I  was  constreigned  to  leaue  some  part  of 
the  worke  untranslated:  whiche  I  made  up,  as  well  as  I  coulde,  with  some  other 
Auctours,  as  well  latines  as  greekes.  .  .  .^ 

He  does  not  in  any  way  feel  the  necessity  of  indicating  the  differ- 
ence between  the  translation  of  the  original  Greek  manuscript  and 
the  additions  gathered  indiscriminately  from  classical  literature. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  more  celebrated  Gouemour.  Upon  a  basis 
taken  from  De  Regno  ei  Regis  Instituiione  of  Francesco  Patrizi 
he  grafted  what  he  thought  appropriate  from  Erasmus  and  Pon- 
tanus."  In  the  same  way,  although  not  perhaps  to  the  same  degree, 
Ascham's  Scholemasier  is  a  compendium  of  educational  theory 
drawn  from  Cheke,  Sturm,  and  the  Italian  humanists.'  Surely, 
there  is  nothing  surprising  in  this !  The  modern  writer  is  supposed 
to  know  "the  literature  of  his  subject."  Scholarship  consists 
in  first  ascertaining  the  facts  and  then  in  re-combining  them.  As 
now,  so  then, — ^with  the  sole  difference  that  they  did  not  feel  it 
essential,  as  we,  to  indicate  the  derivation  of  every  detail.  In  a 
new  age  the  stress  was  laid,  not  upon  the  component  parts,  but 
upon  the  completed  work. 

In  discussing  the  theory  of  the  northern  humanists,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  goal  was  right  living.  Whereas  in  Italy  the 
pedants  had  claimed  a  personal  freedom,  lives  exempt  from  the 
traditional  Christian  prejudice,  in  the  north  the  whole  educational 
superstructure  was  based  upon  morality.  Their  mission  was  to 
bring  the  world  to  a  better,  higher,  more  moral  state.  To  the 
attainment  of  this  ideal  they  bent  all  their  energies;  this  is  the 

'  The  truth  of  this  statement  of  the  origin  and  composition  of  the  book  was  ques- 
tioned by  Wotton  and  Hoby,  unjustly  as  is  shown  by  Croft,  cxlv-clxi. 

*  I  make  this  statement  wholly  upon  the  authority  of  Croft,  as  I  have  never 
seen  the  Patrizi. 

*  In  his  letter  to  Sturm  xcix,  in  The  Whole  Work.t  of  Roger  AiKham  by  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Giles,  1804,  Vol.  1,  p.  181,  Ascham  elaborately  justi6es  himself  by  citing  prece- 
dents. 


808  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

motive  for  writing  their  books;  and  this  is  the  reason  for  their 
insistence  on  certain  types  of  educational  training.  Thus  Vives 
writes: ^ 

A  man  of  himself  is  neither  good  nor  evil,  but  yet  through  the  first  fault  he  is  more 
inclined  and  prone  to  evil,  and  cometh  unto  it  by  example  of  many,  the  which  have 
conspired  together  to  sin  and  to  do  much  mischief,  for  a  man  can  turn  his  eye  to  no 
place  but  he  shall  see  the  evil  that  he  may  ensue  and  follow.  First,  he  is  provoked  by 
their  exhortations  that  seem  to  counsel  him  well,  as  Poets,  for  such  things  as  they 
indite  and  make,  are  received  and  sung  without  respect  of  things.  And  school- 
masters the  which  do  teach  and  instruct  youth,  are  not  far  from  the  opinion  of  the 
common  people;  for  with  them  they  praise  nobility,  riches,  honour,  vengeance,  and 
to  these  things  they  exhort  and  instruct  youth. 

Fathers  and  other  parents  esteem  the  name  of  virtue  as  vain,  and  accustom  their 
children  to  those  things  that  flatter  and  delight  the  senses,  and  not  to  rigorous  and 
hard  honesty,  as  men  that  look  to  creep  no  hig  er,  but  to  live  with  the  vulgar  and 
rude  sort,  and  yet  would  be  an  example  of  living  to  all  other.  There  are  in  like 
manner,  parents,  which  are  grave  men  and  well  learned,  and  yet  abhor  that  virtue 
should  associate  and  accompany  their  children,  the  which  persuade  them  to  follow 
pleasure,  love  and  solace,  inasmuch  that  Quintillian,  seeing  that  honesty  and  virtue 
is  so  convenient  and  meet  for  our  nature,  doth  marvel  that  there  are  so  few  good 
men,  but  he  should  rather  have  marvelled  that  there  are  any  good  at  all,  considering 
their  institution  and  bringing  up  to  be  so  evil.  But  if  by  actual  inclination,  and  by 
the  comfort  and  authority  of  great  and  learned  men,  we  be  enforced  to  evil,  not 
drawn  from  it  by  some  good  doctrine,  what  hope  is  there  of  any  goodness?  All 
shall  come  to  mischief,  and  through  the  custom  of  sin,  we  shall  hate  all  honesty,  and 
learn  to  contemn  the  goodness  of  the  mind,  and  to  hate  virtue.  We  should  stir  up 
by  the  figure  and  strength  of  reason,  and  receive  the  love  of  virtue,  and  give  the 
precepts  of  wisdom  against  the  corruption  of  false  opinions,  and  by  assuefaction  and 
use,  resist  our  natural  proneness  and  inclination  to  vice,  continually  to  the  utmost 
of  our  power,  striving  with  the  same. 

It  is  exactly  for  the  reasons  given  in  the  last  sentence  that  Elyot 
became  an  author,  as  he  himself  confesses :  ^ 

Yet  am  I  not  ignorant,  that  dyuers  there  be,  whiche  doe  not  thankfully  esteme 
my  labours,  dispraysyng  my  studies  as  vayne  and  unprofitable,  saying  in  derision, 
that  I  haue  nothyng  wonne  therby,  but  the  name  onely  of  a  maker  of  bokes,  and 
that  I  set  the  trees,  but  the  Printer  eateth  the  fruites.  In  deede  although  disdeigne 
and  enuie  dooe  cause  them  to  speake  it,  yet  will  I  not  denie,  but  that  they  sale 

*  De  Officio  Mariti,  Chapter  111.  Quoted  from  Foster  Watson,  Vives  and  the 
Renascence  Education  of  Women,  p.  197.  The  translation  is  that  of  Thomas  Paynell, 
1550.  Since  Vives  has  become  so  little  known.  Professor  Watson  has  rendered  very 
real  service  in  thus  making  accessible  English  versions  of  his  various  writings. 

*  Image  of  Gouemaunce,  op.  cit.,  Aiii. 


HUMANISM  809 

truely:  for  if  I  wolde  haue  emploied  my  studie  aboute  the  increase  of  my  priuate 
commoditie,  whiche  I  haue  spent  in  wrytynge  of  bokes  for  others  necessitee,  fewe 
men  doubte  (I  suppose)  that  dooe  knowe  me,  but  that  I  shulde  haue  atteygned  ere 
this  tyme  to  haue  byn  muche  more  welthy,  and  in  respecte  of  the  worlde  in  a  more 
estimation.  But  to  excuse  me  of  follie,  I  wyll  professe  without  arrogaunce,  that 
when  I  consydered,  that  cunnynge  continueth  when  fortune  flytteth,  hauing  also 
ringynge  alwaye  in  mine  eare,  the  terrible  checke  that  the  good  maister  in  the 
gospell  gaue  to  his  idell  seruant,  for  hyding  his  money  in  a  cloute,  and  not  dyspos- 
ynge  it  for  his  maisters  aduantage,  those  twoo  wordes,  Serue  nequam  so  steerred  my 
spyrites,  that  it  caused  me  to  take  more  regarde  to  my  laste  reckenynge,  then  to 
anye  rychesse  or  wordely  promocion.  And  althoughe  I  dooe  neyther  dyspute  nor 
expounde  holy  scrypture,  yet  in  sucbe  woorkes  as  I  haue  and  entende  to  sette 
foorth,  my  poore  talent  shall  be,  Godde  wyllinge,  in  suche  yse  bestowed,  that  noe 
mans  conscyence  shall  be  therewyth  offended,  my  boke  called  the  Gouemour,  in- 
structynge  men  in  suche  vertues  as  shall  be  expedyente  for  theym,  whiche  shal  haue 
auctoritie  in  a  weale  publike.  The  Doctrinall  of  Prynces,  whiche  are  but  the  coun- 
sayles  of  wyse  Isocrates,  inducynge  into  noble  mennes  wyttes  honest  opinions.  The 
Edcacion  of  childrene,  whiche  also  I  translated  out  of  the  wyse  Plutarche,  makynge 
men  and  women,  whiche  wyll  folowe  those  rules,  to  be  well  worthy  to  be  fathers  and 
mothers.  The  lyttle  Pasquill,  althoughe  he  be  mery  and  playne,  teachynge  as  well 
seruantes  howe  to  be  faythfull  unto  theyr  maysters,  as  also  maisters  howe  to  be 
cyrcumspecte  in  espying  of  flatterers.  Semblablie  the  oflBce  of  a  good  counsaylour 
with  magnanimitie  or  good  courage  in  tyme  of  aduersitie,  maye  bee  apparauntly 
founded  in  my  boke  called.  Of  the  knoweledge  belongynge  to  a  wyse  man.  In  read- 
ynge  the  sermon  of  sainct  Cyprian  by  me  translated,  the  deuout  reader  shall  finde  no 
lyttle  comforte  in  plagues  or  calamities.  The  Bankette  of  Sapience  is  not  fastidi- 
ouse,  and  in  lyttle  roume  sheweth  out  of  holie  scryture  many  wyse  sentences.  The 
Castell  of  health  beynge  truely  read,  shall  longe  preserue  men  (beyng  some  phisi- 
cions  neuer  so  angrie)  from  peryllouse  syckenesse.  My  lyttle  boke  called  the  de- 
fence of  good  women,  not  onely  confoundeth  vyllainous  reporte,  but  also  teacheth 
good  wyves  to  knowe  wll  theyr  duitees.  My  Dictionarie  declarying  Latine  by 
Englyshe,  by  that  tyme  that  I  haue  i>erformed  it,  it  shall  not  onely  serue  for  chil- 
dren, as  men  haue  excepted  it,  but  also  shall  be  commodious  for  them,  which  per- 
chaunce  be  well  learned.  And  this  persent  boke,  whiche  I  haue  named  the  Image  of 
Gouemaunce,  shall  be  to  all  theim  whiche  wyll  reade  it  sincerely,  a  veraie  true 
pateme,  wherby  they  maye  shape  all  theyr  procedynges.  And  in  none  of  these 
woorkes  I  dare  undertake,  a  man  shall  fynde  any  sentence  against  the  commaunde- 
mentes  of  God,  the  true  catholike  faieth,  or  occasion  to  steere  men  to  wanton 
deuises.  Wherfore  I  trust  unto  God,  mine  accompt  shall  of  hym  bee  fauourable 
accepted:  .  .  . 

Thus  in  both  method  and  motive  Elyot  suggests  a  comparison 
with  Barclay,  The  medievalism  of  the  latter  is  due  to  a  reliance 
up)on  the  traditions  of  the  Church,  which  he  illustrates  by  examples 
from  contemporary  exf)erience;  the  Renaissance  appears  in  Elyot's 
rationalism,  which    he,  likewise,  illustrates    by  examples  drawn 


310  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

from  classical  literature.  Both  are  actuated,  however,  by  the 
same  moral  enthusiasm.  That  the  same  is  true  of  Ascham,  no 
one  at  all  familiar  with  the  Scholemaster  needs  to  be  told.  There 
his  insistence  upon  the  ways  of  righteousness  is  the  keynote:  ^ 

Learning  therefore,  ye  wise  fathers,  and  good  bringing  vp,  and  not  blinde  and 
dangerous  experience,  is  the  next  and  readiest  waie,  that  must  leede  your  Children, 
first,  to  wisdom,  and  than  to  worthinesse,  if  euer  ye  purpose  they  shall  cum  there. 

And  to  saie  all  in  shorte,  though  I  lacke  Authoritie  to  giue  counsell,  yet  I  lacke  not 
good  will  to  wisshe,  that  the  youthe  in  England,  speciallie  lentlemen,  and  namelie 
nobilitie,  shold  be  by  good  bringing  vp,  so  grounded  in  iudgement  of  learninge,  so 
founded  in  loue  of  honestie,  as  whan  they  shold  be  called  forthe  to  the  execution  of 
great  affaires,  in  service  of  their  Prince  and  contrie,  they  might  be  hable,  to  vse  and 
to  order,  all  experiences,  were  they  good  were  they  bad,  and  that,  according  to  the 
square,  rule,  and  line,  of  wisdom,  learning,  and  vertue. 

Clearly  in  the  minds  of  these  men,  the  development  of  both  body 
and  mind  was  subservient  to  the  one  great  aim  of  moral  well-being. 
For  this  was  first  stressed  the  care  of  the  body,  not  for  its  own 
sake  but  for  the  sake  of  the  soul.  But  such  recognition  of  the  claims 
of  the  body  constitute  an  educational  innovation  of  far-reaching 
importance.  While  naturally  in  the  sixteenth  century  the  ascetic 
ideals  of  the  fourth  were  no  longer  in  men's  minds,  there  was  yet 
left  the  feeling  that  there  was  something  akin  to  virtue  in  self- 
denial.  The  paunch-proud  prelate,  however  common  a  figure, 
was  never  the  ideal  type.  It,  therefore,  behoved  the  student  to 
live  laborious  days,  uncontaminated  by  soul-destroying  luxuries. 
Conversely,  the  lean  and  scrawny  youth,  pale  and  emaciated, 
was  presumably  he  that  profited  much  from  his  studies.  With  all 
allowances  made  for  the  personal  equation  of  Erasmus,  for  his 
tendency  to  feel  abused  and  for  his  delicate  health,  his  description 
of  the  College  Montaigu  ^  suggests  the  wide  divergence  between 
the  scholastic  and  humanistic  point  of  view.  In  the  dialogue  the 
FishmongeTy  Uke  Erasmus,  has  been  to  Montaigu  College,  where, 

^  The  most  scholarly  edition  of  the  Scholemaster  is  that  of  John  E.  B.  Mayor, 
London,  1863.  As,  however,  that  in  Arber's  Reprints  is  probably  more  accessible 
to  American  readers,  my  references  will  refer  to  that.  This  passage  is  taken 
from  p.  63. 

*The  famous  passage  in  the  Colloquium  ^ixdvo^vyta.  Professor  Emerton 
suggests  Rabelais's  attack  is  merely  an  echo  of  this  of  Erasmus.  Cf.  op.  cit. 
p.  289. 


HUMANISM  811 

according  to  report,  the  very  walls  teach  divinity.  He  thus  de- 
scribes the  conditions.* 

You  say  very  right;  but  as  for  me,  I  brought  nothing  out  of  it  but  my  Body  full  of 
gross  Humours,  and  my  Clothes  full  of  Lice.  But  to  go  on  as  I  began:  At  that  Time 
one  John  Standoneus  was  President,  a  Man  whose  Temper  you  would  not  mislike, 
and  whose  Qualifications  you  would  covet;  for  as  I  remember,  in  his  Youth,  when 
he  was  very  poor  himself,  he  was  very  charitable,  and  that  is  much  to  be  com- 
mended; and  if  he  had  still  supply 'd  the  Necessities  of  young  Persons,  as  he  found 
them  Materials  for  going  on  with  their  studies,  he  would  not  have  had  so  much 
Money  to  have  sjjent  lavishly,  but  would  have  done  Praise- worthily:  But  what  with 
lying  hard,  by  bad  and  spare  Diet,  late  and  hard  Studies,  within  one  Year's  Space, 
of  many  young  Men  of  a  good  Genius,  and  very  hopeful,  some  he  kill'd,  others  he 
blinded,  others  he  made  run  distracted,  and  others  he  brought  into  the  Leprosy, 
some  of  whom  I  know  very  well;  and  in  short,  not  one  of  them  but  was  in  danger 
by  him.  .  .  .  Neither  did  this  Cruelty  only  destroy  mean  Persons,  but  many  Gen- 
tlemens  Sons  too,  and  spoil'd  many  a  hopeful  Genius.  It  is,  indeed,  the  Part  of  a 
Father,  to  hold  in  Youth  that  is  apt  to  grow  lascivious,  by  Restraint.  But  in  the 
very  Depth  of  Winter,  here's  a  Morsel  of  Bread  given  them  when  they  ask  for  their 
Commons;  and  as  for  their  Drink,  they  must  draw  that  out  of  a  Well  that  gives  bad 
Water,  unwholesome  of  itself,  if  it  were  not  made  the  worse  by  the  Coldness  of  the 
Morning:  I  have  known  many  that  were  brought  to  such  an  ill  state  of  Health,  that 
they  have  never  got  over  it  to  this  Day.  There  were  Chambers  on  a  Ground-Floor, 
and  rotten  Plaister,  they  stood  near  a  stinking  House  of  OflBce,  in  which  none  ever 
dwelt,  but  he  either  got  his  Death,  or  some  grievous  Distemper.  I  shall  say  nothing 
of  the  unmerciful  Whippings,  even  of  innocent  Persons.  This  they  say  is  to  break 
their  Fierceness,  for  so  they  call  a  sprightly  Genius;  and  therefore,  they  thus  cow 
their  Spirits,  to  make  them  more  humble  in  the  Monasteries:  Nor  shall  I  take  No- 
tice how  many  rotten  Eggs  were  eaten;  nor  how  much  sour  Wine  was  drank.  Per- 
haps these  Things  may  be  mended  now;  but  however,  'tis  too  late  for  those  that  are 
dead  already,  or  carry  about  an  infected  Carcass.  Nor  do  I  mention  these  Things 
because  I  have  any  ill  Will  to  the  College,  but  I  thought  it  worth  While  to  give  this 
Monition,  lest  human  Severity  should  mar  inexperienc'd  and  tender  Age,  imder  the 
Pretence  of  Religion. 

This  is  the  extreme  statement  for  the  plaintiff;  and  to  generalize 
from  a  single  particular  creates  a  most  dangerous  logical  fallacy. 
Yet  Erasmus  here  is  speaking  for  the  humanists,  and  in  his  mind 
such  neglect  of  the  body  was  associated  with  the  medieval  method. 
From  this  angle,  cleariy  it  is  the  final  sentence  that  deserves  notice; 
it  is  Erasmus'  motive  for  introducing  the  foregoing  disgusting 
details.  These  are  not  due  primarily  to  poverty,  but  to  a  be- 
lief that  by  disregarding  the  body   the   soul  was  held  in  higher 

>  Bailey's  Translation  of  the  CoUoquiet,  ii,  S04-S05. 


312  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

regard.  It  is  unnecessary  to  point  out  how  diametrically  opposed 
is  such  a  theory  to  that  held  in  classical  times.  The  anthropomor- 
phism that  embodied  the  gods  in  beautiful  human  forms  reacted 
in  the  feeling  that  corporeal  beauty  is  itself  godUke.  This,  in  its 
extreme  form  is  thus  expressed  by  Spenser:  ^ 

Thereof  it  comes,  that  these  faire  soules,  which  haue 
The  most  resemblance  of  that  heauenly  light. 
Frame  to  themselues  most  beautifull  and  braue 
Their  fleshly  bowre,  most  fit  for  their  delight. 
And  the  grosse  matter  by  a  soueraine  might 

Tempers  so  trim,  that  it  may  well  be  scene, 

A  pallace  fit  for  such  a  virgin  Queene. 

So  euery  spirit,  as  it  is  most  pure. 

And  hath  in  it  the  more  of  heauenly  light. 

So  it  the  fairer  bodie  doth  procure 

To  habit  in,  and  it  more  fairely  dight 

With  chearefull  grace  and  amiable  sight. 
For  of  the  soule  the  bodie  forme  doth  take: 
For  soule  is  forme,  and  doth  the  bodie  make. 

Therefore  where-euer  that  thou  doest  behold 
A  comely  corpse,  with  beautie  faire  endewed. 
Know  this  for  certaine,  that  the  same  doth  hold 
A  beauteous  soule,  with  faire  conditions  thewed. 
Fit  to  receiue  the  seede  of  vertue  strewed. 

For  all  that  faire  is,  is  by  nature  good;  , 

That  is  a  signe  to  know  the  gentle  blood. 

But  with  this  Platonic  conception  of  the  identity  of  beauty  and 
truth,  clearly  the  corporeal  half  of  the  human  duality  receives 
an  emphasis  that  was  theoretically  denied  it  in  the  scholastic 
system.  Thus  following  the  lead  of  the  Italian  Platonists,  Eng- 
hsh  humanists  advocated  an  educational  theory  diametrically 
opposed  to  the  older  conception. 

As  in  the  other  cases,  although  it  is  an  error  to  assume  that  this 
theory  is  original  with  any  one  writer,  the  first  propagandist  is 
Vives.  But  just  as  the  care  for  the  body  is  rather  implicit  than  ex- 
plicit in  Plato,  since  to  the  Greek  there  was  no  necessity  of  urging 
so  obvious  a  duty,  so  in  Vives  it  is  more  assumed  than  definitely 

^  I  have  used  the  text,  Foure  Hymnes,  London,  1617.  Of  course  the  same  position 
may  be  illustrated  from  Sidney,  etc. 


HUMANISM  313 

stated  in  any  given  passage.  Yet  the  impression  gained  from  read- 
ing his  works,  a  sentence  here  and  a  sentence  there,  grows  into  a 
definite  belief.^  He  discusses  what  one  should  eat  and  what  one 
should  drink,  and  especially  advocates  frequent  bathing.  This 
should  be  done  primarily  for  health,  not  for  pleasure.^  For  this 
reason  he  also  advocates  sports  as  a  relaxation  for  the  weary  mind 
as  well  as  to  develop  the  growing  body.'  Consequently  in  his 
Exerdtatio  Linguce  Latince  he  discusses  when,  to  what  extent,  with 
whom,  how,  and  what  sports  the  lad  shall  pursue,  and  advocates 
those  in  which  both  honor  and  enjoyment  are  united.  In  modern 
phrase,  he  believes  in  a  'gentleman's  game.'  As  Vives'  works  not 
only  circulated  but  were  translated  into  English  for  the  benefit  of 
the  unlearned,  and  as  the  Exerdtatio  itself  was  the  medium  by 
which  so  many  learned  their  Latin,  the  importance  of  his  opin- 
ion on  the  value  of  exercise  is  clear. 

Naturally,  then,  it  is  no  matter  for  surprise  to  find  Elyot  with 
this  same  conception.* 

All  thoughe  I  haue  hitherto  aduanced  the  commendation  of  lemyng,  specially  in 
gentil  men,  yet  it  is  to  be  considered  that  continuall  studie  without  some  maner  of 
exercise,  shortly  exhausteth  the  spirites  vital!,  and  hyndereth  naturall  decoction  and 
digestion,  whereby  mannes  body  is  the  soner  corrupted  and  brought  in  to  diuers 
aickeness-is,  and  finallye  the  life  is  therby  made  shorter:  where  contrayrye  wise  by 
exercise,  whiche  is  a  vehement  motion  (as  Galene  prince  of  phisitions  defineth)  the 
helthe  of  man  is  preserued,  and  his  strength  increased:  for  as  moche  the  members  by 
meuyng  and  mutuall  touching,  do  waxe  more  harde,  and  naturall  heate  in  all  the 
body  is  thereby  augmented.  More  ouer  it  maketh  the  spirites  of  a  man  more 
stronge  and  valiant,  so  that,  by  the  hardnesse  of  the  membres,  all  labours  be  more 
toUerable;  by  naturall  hete  the  appetite  is  the  more  quicke;  the  chaunge  of  the  sub- 
stance receiued  is  the  more  redy;  the  nourisshinge  of  all  partes  of  the  body  is  the 
more  sufficient  and  sure.  By  valiaunt  motion  of  the  spirites  all  thingea  superfluous 
be  expelled,  and  the  condutis  of  the  body  densed.  Wherfore  this  parte  of  phisike  is 
nat  to  be  contemned  or  neglected  in  the  education  of  children,  and  specially  from 
the  age  of  Xiiii  yeres  upwarde,  in  whiche  tyme  strength  with  courage  increaseth. 

*  Kuypers,  op.  cit.,  p.  25,  has  collected  a  number  of  these  scattered  references  and 
from  them  made  his  generalizations. 

*  Intr.  Sap.  4, 86.  Tota  corporis  curatio  ad  sanitatem  referenda  est  rum  ad  volupla- 
tem. 

*  Exerdtatio,  dial.  Leges  Ludi:  homo  propter  res  serias  est  condUus,  non  propter 
nugas  et  lusus;  lusus  autem  reperti  ad  reficiendum  animum  Uusum  a  seriis  .  .  .  simxd 
animum  reficiat,  et  corpus  exerceat. 

*  The  Gouemour.  Chapter  XVI. 


814  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

As  this  passage  ends  with  eulogy  of  Linacre's  translation  of 
Galen,  and  is  itself  merely  a  composite  of  several  extracts  from 
Galen,  both  the  agreement  with  Vives  and  the  omission  of  his  name 
is  comprehensible.  Vives  had  only  transmitted  the  general  human- 
istic theory;  Elyot  here  is  passing  it  on  to  England.  Naturally, 
under  these  circumstances  we  expect  to  find  Ascham  presenting 
the  same  point  of  view. 

And,  I  do  not  meene,  by  all  this  my  taulke,  that  young  lentlemen,  should  alwaies 
be  poring  on  a  booke,  and  by  vsing  good  studies,  shold  lease  honest  pleasure,  and 
haunt  no  good  pastime,  I  meene  nothing  lesse:  For  it  is  well  knowne,  that  I  both 
like  and  loue,  and  haue  alwaies,  and  do  yet  still  vse,  all  exercises  and  pastimes, 
that  be  fitte  for  my  nature  and  habilitie.  .  .  .  Therefore,  I  wold  wishe,  that,  be- 
side some  good  time,  fitlie  appointed,  and  constantlie  kepte,  to  encrease  by  read- 
unge,  the  knowledge  of  the  tonges  and  learning,  yong  ientlemen  shold  vse,  and  de- 
Ute  in  all  Courtelie  exercises,  and  lentlemanlike  pastimes.^ 

It  is  p)Ossible,  I  think,  in  these  extracts  to  see  a  certain  progression. 
Whereas  Vives  recommends  only  such  exercise  as  may  be  necessary 
to  enable  the  mind  to  perform  its  functions,  Elyot  argues  in  favor 
of  good  health  for  its  own  sake,  and  Ascham  for  sport  for  sport's 
sake.    As  he  says : 

For  the  Muses,  besides  learning,  were  also  Ladies  of  daimcinge,  mirthe  and 
ministrelsie:  Apollo,  was  god  of  shooting,  and  Author  of  cunning  playing  vpon 
Instrumentes:  Pallas  also  was  Laidie  mistres  in  warres.  Wherbie  was  nothing  else 
ment,  but  that  leaminge  shold  be  alwaise  mingled,  with  honest  mirthe,  and  cumlie 
exercises:  and  that  warre  also  shold  be  gouemed  by  learning,  and  moderated  by 
wisdom.  .  .  .' 

In  the  interval  of  time  between  Vives  and  Ascham  athletics  has 
become  a  definite  part  of  the  educational  system. 

Much  the  same  progression  can  be  indicated  in  the  forms  of 
exercise  enumerated  by  the  several  writers.  Vives  mentions  al- 
most casually  ball  playing  or  running  races,  merely  as  a  fitting 
interlude  to  serious  work.  Elyot  feels  it  necessary  to  discuss  quite 
elaborately  wrestling,  running,  swimming,  fencing,  riding,  and  the 
various  forms  of  hunting.  To  him  the  best  exercise,  beyond  com- 
pare, is  to  be  found  in  archery,  in  shooting  with  the  long  bow.  In 
comparison  with  that,  football ' 

'  The  Scholemaster,  Arber's  Re-prinU,  pp.  6S-64. 

» Ibid.,  p.  64. 

*  The  Oovemour,  Everyman's  Library,  p.  113. 


HUMANISM  315 

wherin  is  nothinge  but  beastly  furie  and  exstreme  violence;  wherof  precedeth 
hurte,  and  consequently  rancour  and  malice  do  remaine  with  them  that  be  wounded: 

is  "  to  be  put  in  perpetual  silence."  Ascham  also  gives  much  the 
same  list.^ 

Therefore,  to  ride  cumlie:  to  run  faire  at  the  tilte  or  ring:  to  plaie  at  all  weaponss: 
to  shote  faire  in  bow,  or  surelie  in  gon:  to  vaut  lustely :  to  runne:  to  leape:  to  wrestle: 
to  swimme:  To  daunce  cumlie:  to  sing,  and  playe  of  instrumentes  cimnyngly:  to 
Hawke:  to  himte:  to  playe  at  tennes,  and  all  pastimes  generally,  which  be 
ioyned  with  labor,  vsed  in  open  place,  and  on  the  day  light,  conteining  either  some 
fitte  exercise  for  warre,  or  some  pleasant  pastime  for  peace,  be  not  onelie  cumlie  and 
decent,  but  also  verie  necessarie,  for  a  Courtlie  lentleman  to  vse. 

But,  equally  with  Elyot,  these  are  not  ideal  for  scholars.^ 

Therfore  to  loke  on  all  pastymes  and  exercises  holsome  for  the  bodye,  pleasaunt 
for  the  mynde,  comlye  for  euery  man  to  do,  honest  for  all  other  to  loke  on,  profitable 
to  be  sette  by  of  euerye  man,  worthie  to  be  rebuked  of  no  man,  fit  for  al  ages  persons 
and  places,  onely  shoting  shal  appeare,  wherein  all  these  commodities  maye  be 
founde. 

And  he  writes  a  whole  book  to  prove  it,  in  which  the  arguments 
used  by  Elyot  are  expanded  and  enforced  by  multitudes  of  classi- 
cal examples.  There  is  something  very  English  in  the  stress  on 
sport;  one  feels  that  however  much  the  continental  humanists  may 
have  fathered  the  idea,  the  development  of  it  in  England  would 
have  startled  a  thinker  such  as  Erasmus.  The  general  theory  has 
been  adapted  to  local  conditions.  Certainly  is  this  true  in  re- 
gard to  dancing.    To  Vives,  it  was  exceedingly  illogical.' 

Wliat  good  doth  all  that  dancing  of  young  women,  holden  up  on  men's  arms, 
that  they  may  hop  the  higher?  What  meaneth  that  shaking  unto  midnight,  and 
never  weary,  which  if  they  were  desired  to  go  but  to  the  next  church,  they  were 
not  able,  except  they  were  carried  on  horse  back,  or  in  a  chariot?  Who  would  not 
think  them  out  of  their  wits?  I  remember  that  I  heard  upon  a  time  said,  that 
there  were  certain  men  brought  out  of  a  far  country  into  our  parts  of  the  world, 
which  when  they  saw  women  dance,  they  ran  away,  wonderfully  afraid,  crying  out 
that  they  thought  the  women  were  taken  with  a  strange  kind  of  frenzy.  And  to  say 
good  sooth,  who  would  not  reckon  women  frantic  when  they  dance,  if  he  had  never 
seen  women  dance  before? 

1  The  SchoUmasUr,  Arber's  Reprints,  p.  64. 

*  Toxopkilue,  ibid.,  p.  47. 

*  Hyrde's  translation  of  Vives*  Inatruction  of  a  Chriatian  Woman,  edited  by 
Foster  Watson,  p.  103. 


816  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

But  when  Henry's  love  of  masking  and  dancing  is  remembered, 
such  a  preachment,  however  convincing  in  theory,  was  not  accept- 
able in  fact.  Consequently  Elyot  is  placed  in  a  most  unpleasant 
position.  He  extricates  himself  by  showing  with  a  vast  parade 
of  learning  that  while  idolatrous  and  lascivious  dancing  was  un- 
doubtedly correctly  reproved  by  the  Church,  not  only  in  itself 
is  it  excellent  exercise,  but  in  addition  symbolizes  the  moral  vir- 
tue. Prudence.    Consequently  dancing  ^ 

whiche  diligently  beholden  shall  appiere  to  be  as  well  a  necessary  studie  as  a 
noble  and  vertuouse  pastyme,  used  and  continued  in  suche  forme  as  I  hiderto  haue 
declared. 

After  that  "to  daunce  cumlie"  is  accepted  by  Ascham  without 
comment  as  an  essential  accomplishment  of  the  courtier,  for  even 
dancing  has  its  moral  value. 

Just  as  the  humanists  believed  that  all  the  powers  of  the  body 
should  be  trained  to  a  moral  end,  so  they  felt  that  all  the  powers 
of  the  mind  should  be  so  cultivated.  Neither  the  one  nor  the 
other  should  be  prostituted  to  mere  pleasure.  Consequently  the 
growing  pupil  was  to  be  familiarized  as  soon  as  possible  with  the 
wisdom  of  the  ages.  At  first  it  was  to  be  administered  in  tabloid 
form.  Vives,  in  1524,  prepared  a  Satellitium  for  the  Princess  Mary 
in  which  the  Latin  proverbs  were  expanded  and  explained.  Thus 
generositas  virtus,  non  sanguis  is  paraphrased:  ^ 

We  shall  see  how  this  works  out  if  we  make  use  of  an  induction  in  this  matter. 
Which  horse  is  noble?  which  dog?  Is  it  not  the  best  (optimus)  and  so  in  other 
animals  and  stocks:  therefore  also  the  noble  man  is  none  other  than  the  best  man 
morally. 

For  this  purpose  the  Copia  of  Erasmus  is  recommended.  In  all 
countries  works  appeared  under  the  titles  of  precepts,  aphorisms, 
sentences,  and  the  like.^  But  with  this  desire  to  inculcate  morality, 
the  humanists  in  their  recoil  from  scholastic  tradition  consciously 
referred  back  to  classic  civilization.  From  their  illustrations  the 
reader  might  make  the  deduction  that  since  the  coming  of  Chris- 

^  The  Oouemour,  ibid.,  p.  107, 

*  Watson,  Vives  and  the  Renascence  Education  of  Women,  155. 

*  The  same  principle  is  sometimes  used  today  in  teaching  writing,  where  the 
pupil  laboriously  copies  a  moral  platitude. 


HUMANISM  817 

tianity  there  have  been  no  good  men!  In  every  respect,  appar- 
ently, the  human  race  has  degenerated.  Ascham  makes  this  plain :  * 

Atheru,  by  this  discipline  and  good  ordering  of  yougthe,  did  breede  vp,  within 
the  circute  of  that  one  Citie,  within  the  compas  of  one  hondred  yeare,  within  the 
memorie  of  one  mans  life,  so  manie  notable  Capitaines  in  warre,  for  worthinesse, 
wisdome  and  learning,  as  be  scarce  matchable  no  not  in  the  state  of  Rome,  in  the 
compas  of  those  seauen  hondred  yeares,  whan  it  florished  moste. 

And  bicause,  I  will  not  onelie  saie  it,  but  also  proue  it,  the  names  of  them  be 
these.  Miltiades,  Themistodes,  Xantipjms,  Pericles,  Cymon,  Alcyhiades,  Thrasyhu- 
lu3,  Conon,  Iphicrates,  Xenophon,  Timotheus,  Theopompus,  Demetrius,  and  diuers 
other  mo:  of  which  euerie  one,  male  iustelie  be  spoken  that  worthie  praise,  which 
was  geuen  to  Scipio  Africanus,  who,  Cicero  douteth,  whether  he  were,  more  noble 
Capitaine  in  warre,  or  more  eloquent  and  wise  councelor  in  peace. 

This  point  of  view  has  caused  the  pages  of  English  literature  to  be 
sprinkled  with  classical  allusion,  so  that  the  heroes  of  antiquity 
are  known  by  us  all. 

But  to  be  inspired  properly  to  emulation  of  the  great  classical 
heroes,  so  to  live  our  lives  that  we  may  risk  comparison  with  Alci- 
biades  or  Conon,  or  merit  the  praise  given  Scipio  Africanus,  clearly 
a  firsthand  knowledge  of  the  literatures  of  Rome  and  Greece  is 
essential.  Consequently  in  the  humanists  we  find  long  lists  of 
authors,  whose  works  are  the  portals  to  a  good  life.  Here  also  it 
is  possible  to  see  the  progression.  Vives  is  wiUing  to  give  credit  to 
the  early  Christian  writers.^ 

Also  the  poets  of  our  religion  should  be  read,  Prudentius,  Prosper,  Paulinus, 
Servilius,  Juvencus,  and  Aratus,  who,  whilst  they  discuss  matters  of  the  highest 
kind,  for  the  salvation  of  the  human  race,  are  neither  crude  nor  contemptible  in 
speech.  They  have  many  passages  in  which,  by  their  eloquence  and  charm  of 
verse,  they  vie  with  the  ancients.    Some  even  think  they  surpass  them. 

These  authors,  however,  are  omitted  in  Elyot,  although  he  occa- 
sionally cites  the  church  fathers  as  authoritative.  He  advocates 
reading  the  Italian  humanists,  such  as  Pontanus  and  Politian,  and 
Erasmus.  In  turn,  these  are  much  less  stressed  by  Ascham,  who 
urges  the  student  to  go  back  to  the  originals.  The  same  trend 
may  be  seen  in  the  attitude  toward  Greek.  To  Vives,  Greek 
seems  almost  a  luxury;  Latin  a  necessity.^ 

*  SchoUmaater,  ibid.,  50. 

*  Watson,  op.  cit.,  246. 
»  Wataon,  op.  cit.,  ISO. 


318  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

To  the  one  who  has  acquired  the  knowledge  of  the  Greek  tongue,  the  fountains 
of  all  branches  of  learning  stand  open,  for  these  have  issued  from  the  Greeks.  He  is 
admitted  to  the  knowledge  of  the  greatest  minds  in  which  Greece  was  always  so 
prolific.  Moreover,  his  copiousness  of  Latin  speech  is  deeper  founded,  both  because 
the  Latin  people  sought  from  Greece  the  schemes  and  figures  of  speech  and  colours 
of  subject-matter,  and  also  because,  when  the  Latin  vocabulary  is  not  at  hand  for 
signifying  a  thing,  a  term  can  be  borrowed  from  the  Greek,  which  is  so  full  of  words. 
Nay,  also,  the  Latin  authors  after  the  time  of  Cicero  were  so  studious  of  Greek,  or 
such  displayers  of  their  knowledge,  that  a  great  part  of  their  idioms  were  poured 
across  into  Latin. 

Elyot  holds  the  balance  much  more  equally,  enjoining  a  careful 
study  of  the  authors  in  each  language,  Homer  as  well  as  Vergil.^ 

But  aboue  all  other,  the  warkes  of  Plato  wolde  be  most  studiously  radde  whan  the 
iugement  of  a  man  is  come  to  perfection,  and  by  the  other  studies  is  instructed  in  the 
fourme  of  speakynge  that  philosophers  used.  Lorde  god,  what  incomparable 
swetnesse  of  wordes  and  mater  shall  he  finde  in  the  saide  warkes  of  Plato  and 
Cicero;  wherin  is  ioyned  grauitie  with  dilectation,  excellent  wysedome  with  diuine 
eloquence,  absolute  vertue  with  pleasure  incredible,  and  euery  place  is  so  infarced 
with  profitable  counsaile,  ioyned  with  honestie,  that  those  thre  bokes  be  almoste 
sufiident  to  make  a  perfecte  and  excellent  gouemour. 

In  Ascham  the  "perfect  Grecians"  have  come  to  their  own.  In 
a  letter  to  Brandesby,  dated  from  Cambridge  1542-53,  he  thus 
gives  the  condition:  ^ 

Aristotle  and  Plato  are  now  read  by  the  boys  in  the  original  language,  but  that 
has  been  done  among  us  at  St.  John's  for  the  last  five  years.  Sophocles  and  Euripi- 
des are  now  more  familiar  to  us  than  Plautus  was  when  you  were  here.  Herodotus, 
Thucydides,  and  Xenophon  are  more  read  now  than  Livy  was  then.  They  talk  now 
as  much  of  Demosthenes,  as  they  did  of  Cicero  at  that  time.  There  are  more 
copies  of  Isocrates  to  be  met  with  now  than  there  were  of  Terence  then.  Yet  we 
do  not  treat  the  Latin  writers  with  contempt,  but  we  cherish  the  best  of  them  who 
flourished  in  the  golden  age  of  their  literature. 

This  change,  the  shifting  of  emphasis  from  the  Latin  to  the  Greek, 
Ascham  attributes  definitely  to  the  influence  of  Sir  John  Cheke. 
That  any  one  individual  can  be  held  directly  responsible  for  it,  is 
probably  untrue,  but  the  situation  as  given  by  Ascham  is  surpris- 
ing. The  former  generation  had  known  Plato,  but  they  saw  him 
through  the  eyes  of  Pico  della  Mirandola  and  Ficino,  Benivieni  and 
the  Italian  humanists,  who  believed  that  their  function  lay  in 

^  The  Gouemour,  417. 

'  Giles*  Edition  of  the  Works  of  Ascham,  i,  xxxvii. 


HUMANISM  319 

reconciling  Platonism  with  Christianity.  This  conception,  cer- 
tainly, tinged  the  early  English  writers.  But  by  1540,  evidently 
humanism  had  passed  into  its  second  stage,  Latin  was  but  a  step 
on  the  road  to  Greek,  and  the  Greek  authors  were  read  in  the  orig- 
inal and  for  their  own  sake. 

This  method  of  teaching  morahty  by  means  of  the  classical  au- 
thors is  open  to  the  obvious  objection  that  their  morals  were  not 
our  morals,  and  that  a  sympathetic  study  of  Juvenal,  Martial,  Pe- 
tronius,  etc.,  whatever  cultural  value  it  might  have,  would  scarcely 
be  helpful  from  the  purely  moral  point  of  view.  Quite  naturally 
some  pages  of  almost  every  classical  author  have  references  and 
allusions  to  customs  and  manners  that  in  English  dress  would  be 
considered  abominable.  Even  Vergil  and  Horace  are  among  the 
number,  while  Catullus  is  distinctly  frank.  Moreover  the  Italian 
humanists,  in  openly  copying  the  classical  lack  of  restraint,  had 
confounded  culture  with  indecency  to  such  an  extent  that  the 
northern  humanist  was  appalled.  In  England  the  logical  solution 
for  the  dilemma  was  found  in  selection.  The  pupil  was  to  be  urged 
and  encouraged  to  read  Latin  and  Greek,  the  classical  literatures 
were  to  be  held  up  before  the  eyes  as  the  most  precious  of  posses- 
sions, but  there  were  to  be  certain  parts  he  was  not  to  touch,  cer- 
tain works  he  was  not  to  know.  This  position,  although  it  is  to  be 
said  that  he  is  writing  for  women  here,  Vives  clearly  states:  ^ 

But  whereto  should  I  speak  of  foolish  and  ignorant  writers,  seeing  that  Ovid 
would  not,  that  he  that  intendeth  to  fly  unchaste  manners  should  once  touch  the 
most  witty  and  well  learned  poets  of  the  Greeks  and  Latins  that  write  of  love? 
What  can  be  told  more  pleasant,  more  sweet,  more  quick,  more  profitable,  with  all 
manner  of  learning  than  these  poets,  CalUmachus,  Phileta,  Anacreon,  Sappho, 
Tibullus,  Propertius,  and  Gallus?  Which  poets  ail  Greece,  all  Italy,  yea,  and  all  the 
world  setteth  great  price  by,  and  yet  Ovid  biddeth  chaste  folks  let  them  alone,  say- 
ing in  the  second  book  of  the  Remedies  of  Love: 

Though  I  be  loath,  yet  will  I  say, 

With  wanton  poets  thou  do  not  mell. 
Ah !  mine  own  virtues  now  I  cast  away. 

Beware  CalUmachus,  for  he  teacheth  well 
To  love  and  Cous  also  well  as  he. 

And  old  Anacreon  writeth  full  wantonly. 
And  Sappho  eke  often  hath  caused  me 

To  deal  with  my  lady  more  liberally. 

»  Watson,  Vives.  op.  cit.,  60-61. 


820  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Who  can  escape  free,  that  readeth  Tibullus, 

Or  Propertius,  when  he  doth  sing 
Unto  his  lady  Cynthia?    Or  else  Gallus? 

And  my  books  also  sound  such  like  thing. 

They  sound  so  indeed,  and  therefore  was  he  banished,  nothing  without  a  cause  of 
that  good  prince.  Wherefore  I  praise  greatly  the  sad  manners  either  of  that  time, 
or  else  of  that  prince.  But  we  live  now  in  a  Christian  country,  and  who  is  he  that  is 
anything  displeased  with  makers  of  such  books  now-a-days?  Plato  casteth  out  of 
the  commonwealth  of  wise  men  which  he  made.  Homer  and  Hesiod  the  poets,  and 
yet  have  they  none  ill  thing  in  comparison  unto  Ovid's  books  of  Love,  which  we 
read  and  carry  them  in  our  hands,  and  learn  them  by  heart,  yea,  and  some  school- 
masters teach  them  to  their  scholars,  and  some  make  expositions  and  expound  the 
vices.  Augustus  banished  Ovid  himself,  and  think  you  then  that  he  would  have 
kept  these  exf>ositors  in  the  country?  Except  a  man  would  reckon  it  a  worse  deed  to 
write  vice  than  to  expound  it,  and  inform  the  tender  minds  of  young  folk  therewith. 
We  banish  him  that  maketh  false  weights  and  measures,  and  [him]  that  counter- 
feiteth  coin,  or  an  instrument,  and  what  a  work  is  made  in  these  things  for  small 
matters!  But  he  is  bad  in  honour,  and  [ac]  counted  a  master  of  wisdom,  that  cor- 
rupteth  the  young  people. 

Vives  here  condemns  whole  works  as  beyond  the  pale.  The  logical 
step  was,  however,  not  to  condemn  the  entire  work,  but  to  select 
only  portions  of  it  to  be  read.     This  step  is  taken  by  Elyot.^ 

But  they  whiche  be  ignoraunt  in  poetes  wyll  perchaunce  obiecte,  as  is  their  maner, 
agayne  these  verses,  sayeng  that  in  Therence  and  other  that  were  writers  of  com- 
edies, also  Ouide,  Catullus,  Martialis,  and  all  that  route  of  lasciuious  poetes  that 
wrate  epistles  and  ditties  of  loue,  some  called  in  latine  Elegiae  and  some  Ejngram- 
maia,  is  nothyng  contayned  but  incitation  to  lechery. 

First,  comedies,  whiche  they  suppose  to  be  a  doctrinall  of  rybaudrie,  they  be 
imdoubtedly  a  picture  or  as  it  were  a  mirrour  of  man's  life,  wherin  iuell  is  nat  taught 
but  discouered;  to  the  intent  that  men  beholdynge  the  promptnes  of  youth  unto 
vice,  the  snares  of  harlotts  and  baudes  laide  for  yonge  myndes,  the  disceipte  of 
seruantes,  the  chaunces  of  fortune  contrary  to  mennes  expectation,  they  beinge 
therof  warned  may  prepare  them  selfe  to  resist  or  preuente  occasion.  Semblably 
remembring  the  wisedomes,  aduertisements,  counsailes,  dissuasion  from  vice,  and 
other  profitable  sentences,  most  eloquently  and  familiarely  shewed  in  those  com- 
edies, undoubtedly  there  shall  be  no  Utle  frute  out  of  them  gathered.  And  if  the 
vices  in  them  expressed  shulde  be  cause  that  myndes  of  the  reders  shulde  be  cor- 
rupted: than  by  the  same  argumente  nat  onely  enterludes  in  englisshe,  but  also 
sermones,  wherin  some  vice  is  declared,  shulde  be  to  the  beholders  and  herers  like 
occasion  to  encreace  sinners.  .  .  . 

Also  Ouidius,  that  semeth  to  be  moste  of  all  poetes  lasciuious,  in  his  mooste 
wanton  bokes  hath  righte  commendable  and  noble  sentences;  .  .  . 

^  The  Gouemour,  op.  cit.,  5S-60. 


HUMANISM  321 

Martialis,  whiche,  for  his  dissolute  wiytynge,  is  mooste  seldome  radde  of  men  of 
moche  grauitie,  hath  nat  withstandynge  many  commendable  sentences  and  right 
wise  counsaUes.  ... 

I  coulde  recite  a  great  nombre  of  semblable  good  sentences  out  of  these  and  other 
wanton  poets,  who  in  the  latine  do  expresse  them  incomparably  with  more  grace 
and  delectation  to  the  reder  than  our  englisshe  tonge  may  yet  comprehende. 

Wherfore  sens  good  and  wise  mater  may  be  picked  out  of  these  poetes,  it  were  no 
reason,  for  some  Ute  mater  that  is  in  their  verses,  to  abandone  therefore  al  their 
warkes,  no  more  than  it  were  to  forbeare  or  prohibite  a  man  to  come  into  a  faire 
gardein,  leste  the  redolent  sauours  of  swete  herbes  and  floures  shall  meue  him  to 
wanton  courage,  or  leste  in  gadringe  good  and  holsome  herbes  he  may  happen  to  be 
stunge  with  a  nettle.  No  wyse  man  entreth  in  to  a  gardein  but  he  sone  espiethe 
good  herbes  from  nettiles,  and  treadeth  the  nettiles  under  his  feete  whiles  he  gadreth 
good  herbes.  Wherby  he  taketh  no  damage,  or  if  he  be  stungen  he  maketh  lite  of 
it  and  shortly  forgetteth  it.  Semblablye  if  he  do  rede  wanton  mater  mixte  with 
wisedome,  he  putteth  the  warst  under  foote  and  sorteth  out  the  beste,  or,  if  his 
courage  be  stered  or  prouoked,  he  remembreth  the  litel  pleasure  and  gret  detriment 
that  shulde  ensue  of  it,  and  withdrawynge  his  minde  to  some  other  studie  or  exercise 
shortly  forgetteth  it.  .  .  . 

So  all  thoughe  I  do  nat  approue  the  lesson  of  wanton  poetes  to  be  taughte  unto 
all  children,  yet  thynke  I  conuenient  and  necessary  that,  whan  the  mynde  is  be- 
come constante  and  courage  is  asswaged,  or  that  children  of  their  naturall  disposi- 
tion be  shamfaste  and  continent,  none  auncient  p>oete  wolde  be  excluded  from  the 
leesson  of  suche  one  as  desireth  to  come  to  the  perfection  of  wysedome. 

However  justifiable  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  morality  of  the 
student,  no  course  could  be  more  safely  recommended  to  insure  a 
false  estimation  of  classical  culture.  To  select  such  traits  as  seem 
admirable,  to  suppress  other  traits,  of  which  you  cannot  con- 
scientiously approve, — in  each  case  avowedly  being  guided  by 
the  standard  of  morality  of  the  present, — seems  the  ideal  method 
to  produce  a  distorted  impression  both  of  the  author  and  his  age. 
By  such  a  method,  however,  a  world  may  be  constructed  of 
valiant  men  and  of  noble  women,  more  valiant  men  and  more 
noble  women  than  do  exist, — or  did  exist.  So,  the  "glory  that  was 
Greece  and  the  grandeur  that  was  Rome"  is  apt  to  be  denomi- 
nated, appropriately,  as  the  "golden"  age. 

While  thus  positively  the  humanists  aimed  at  presenting  an 
imaginary  classical  past  as  the  ideal,  negatively  they  wished  to 
remove  all  traces  of  native  influence.  The  term  gothic  became 
synonymous  with  barbarous,  and  was  liberally  applied  to  the 
history,  art,  and  letters  of  all  Christian  nations.^    Whatever  was 

^  This  use  of  gothic,  according  to  the  N.  E.  D.  begins  with  Dryden;  actually 


822  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

classical  was,  by  hypothesis,  good;  whatever  was  Christian  was, 
conversely  by  hypothesis,  bad.  Even  God  was  mythologized. 
The  ideal  of  the  Christian  church  became  a  pagan  temple,  Leon 
Battista  Alberti  remodelled  the  Tempio  of  the  Malatesta  at  Rimini, 
and  Palladio  hid  Catholicism  behind  a  classical  pediment.  In  Eng- 
land, the  destruction  of  ecclesiastical  architecture  went  on  at  an 
appalling  rate.  Of  the  great  monastic  establishments  on  the 
Thames,  Westminster  alone  survives  through  the  accident  that 
it  had  been  chosen  for  royal  burial;  Chertsey,  Reading,  Abingdon, 
Osney,  remain  only  as  names,  and  are  today  located  by  the  care- 
ful antiquary  by  an  occasional  arch  or  a  bit  of  stone  wall.  And 
this  happened  all  over  England;  to  the  south  Battle  Abbey  sur- 
vives in  a  gate-house,  to  the  north  Fountains,  exquisitely  lovely, 
is  a  mass  of  broken  arches,  to  the  east  Lindisferne  and  Whitby  are 
piles  of  crumbling  masonry,  to  the  west  Glastonbury,  Tintem, 
and  Furness  are  pathetic  fragments.  Here,  again,  is  the  inter- 
relation between  the  humanistic  movement  and  the  Reformation. 
The  latter  was  political,  it  aimed  to  destroy  the  power  of  the 
abbots,  to  sequester  their  property,  but  it  had  no  animus  against 
the  buildings  themselves.  There  was  none  of  the  fanatic  hatred 
that  was  shown  later  by  Cromwell's  soldiers  against  all  "rags  of 
popery."  Therefore,  so  far  as  the  Reformation  is  concerned,  the 
great  abbeys  of  England  might  well  have  come  down  to  us  as  has 
Westminster.^  That  they  have  not  is  due  rather  to  the  change 
in  taste.  It  was  not  that  they  were  destroyed;  they  were  merely 
not  preserved.  Humanism  had  so  thoroughly  done  its  work  that 
Tudor  England  never  conceived  the  possibility  that  to  future 
generations  such  buildings  might  seem  lovely  in  form,  or  valuable 
through  association.  They  were  only  disregarded.  The  materials 
were  carted  away,  when  they  were  needed  for  other  constructions; 
otherwise  they  were  left.  It  was  a  process  of  disintegration 
through  the  ages,  not  a  single  act  of  vandalism.  Reading  Abbey 
was  still  a  habitation  until  the  Civil  Wars.     From  this  point  of 

Ascham  implies  it  by  his  opprobriotis  epithets,  whenever  he  mentions  the  Hunnet 
and  Gothiana. 

^  I  am  trying  here  to  differentiate  between  fanaticism  and  the  purely  mercenary 
motive.  Naturally  this  last,  when  the  king  determined  to  suppress  the  monasteries, 
was  a  fearfully  destructive  agent.  Cf.  F.  A.  Gasquet's  very  able  Henry  VIII. 
and  the  English  Monasteries,  ii.  Chap.  X. 


HUMANISM  823 

view  the  monastic  ruins  scattered  over  England  cry  aloud  the 
triumph  of  humanism. 

Architectural  ruins,  since  the  contrast  is  poignant  between 
what  they  were  and  what  they  are,  aflFord  a  striking  illustration 
of  this  change.  But  the  same  force  was  operating  in  literature. 
In  favor  of  the  writings  of  Greece  and  Rome  all  work  referring 
to  a  Christian  past  was  to  be  contemned.  Vives  here  is  quite 
clear.  ^ 

What  a  custom  is  this,  that  a  song  shall  not  be  regarded,  unless  it  be  full  of  filthi- 
ness!  And  this  the  laws  ought  to  take  heed  of,  and  of  those  ungracious  books,  such 
as  be  in  my  country  in  Spain,  the  Amadis,  Florisand,  Tristan  and  Celestina  the  bawd, 
mother  of  naughtiness;  in  France,  Lancelot  du  Lac,  Paris  and  Vienne,  Ponthus 
and  Sidonia,  and  Melusine;  and  here  in  Flanders,  the  histories  of  Flor  and  Blanche- 
fleur,  Leonella  and  Canamorus,  Pyramis  and  Thisbe.  Li  England,  Parthenope, 
Genarides,  Hippomadon,  William  and  Melyour,  Libius  and  Arthur,  Guy,  Bevis,  and 
many  other.  ...  As  for  learning,  none  is  to  be  looked  for  in  those  men,  which 
saw  never  so  much  as  a  shadow  of  learning  themselves.  And  when  they  tell  aught, 
what  delight  can  be  in  those  things  that  be  so  plain  and  foolish  lies!  One  killeth 
twenty  himself  alone,  another  killeth  thirty,  another  wounded  with  a  hundred 
wounds,  and  left  dead,  riseth  up  again,  and  on  the  next  day  made  whole  and  strong 
overcometh  two  giants,  and  then  goeth  away  loaden  with  gold  and  silver,  and 
precious  stones,  mo  than  a  galley  would  carry  away!  What  madness  is  it  of  folks 
to  have  pleasure  in  these  books?  Also  there  is  no  wit  in  them,  but  a  few  words  of 
wanton  lust,  which  be  spoken  to  move  her  mind  with  whom  they  love,  if  it  chance 
she  be  steadfast.  I  never  heard  man  say  that  he  liked  these  books,  but  those  that 
never  touched  good  books. 

Elyot,  to  be  sure  is  not  so  scornful,  and  even  alludes  to  the  romance 
of  Bevis  without  expletives,  but  in  Ascham  we  find  the  same 
moral  indignation.  In  1545  he  felt  that  the  old  romances  promul- 
gated an  evil  combination  of  lust  and  Catholicism,  and  that  they 
were  a  barbarous  product  of  a  benighted  age. ' 

Englysh  writers  by  diuersitie  of  tyme,  haue  taken  diuerse  matters  in  hande.  In 
our  fathers  tyme  nothing  was  red,  but  bookcs  of  fayned  cheualrie,  wherein  a  man 
by  redinge,  shuld  be  led  to  none  other  ende,  but  onely  to  man-slaughter  and  baudrye. 
Yf  any  man  suppose  they  were  good  ynough  to  passe  the  time  with  al,  he  is  de- 
ceyued.  For  surelye  vayne  woordes  doo  woorke  no  smal  thinge  in  vayne,  ignoraunt, 
and  younge  mindes,  specially  yf  they  be  gyuen  any  thynge  thervnto  of  theyr  owne 

^  Watson,  Vives,  op.  cit.,  5S-9.    The  English  books  mentioned  in  this  quotation 
are  not  in  the  Vives;  they  were  added  by  Hyrde. 
*  Toxophilut,  op.  cit.,  19. 


824  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

nature.  These  bokes  (as  I  haue  heard  say)  were  made  the  moste  parte  in  Abbayes, 
and  Monasteries,  a  very  lickely  and  fit  fruite  of  suche  an  ydle  and  blynde  kinde 
of  lyuynge. 

But  here  in  the  Toxophilus  he  not  only  quotes  Chaucer,  he  even 
recommends  the  reading  of  the  Pardoner's  Tale,  for  its  side-Hghts 
on  the  perils  of  popery.^  In  the  Scholemaster,  even  Chaucer  is 
bracketed  with  Petrarch  as  pernicious,  while  his  opinion  of  the 
romances  has  altered  only  for  the  worse.  ^ 

In  our  forefathers  tyme,  whan  Papistrie,  as  a  standyng  poole,  couered  and  ouer- 
flowed  all  England,  fewe  bookes  were  read  in  our  tong,  sauyng  certaine  bookes 
Cheualrie,  as  they  sayd,  for  pastime  and  pleasure,  which,  as  some  say,  were  made 
in  Monasteries,  by  idle  Monkes,  or  wanton  Canons:  as  one  for  example,  Morte 
Arthure:  the  whole  pleasure  of  which  booke  standeth  in  two  speciall  poyntes,  in  open 
mans  slaughter,  and  bold  bawdrye:  In  which  booke  those  be  counted  the  noblest 
Knightes,  that  do  kill  most  men  without  any  quarrell,  and  commit  fowlest  aduoul- 
teres  by  sutlest  shiftes:  as  Sir  Launcelote,  with  the  wife  of  king  Arthure  his  master: 
Syr  Trislram  with  the  wife  of  king  Marke  his  vncle;  Syr  Lamer ocke  with  the  wife  of 
king  Lote,  that  was  his  own  aunte.  This  is  good  stuflFe,  for  wise  men  to  laughe  at, 
or  honest  men  to  take  pleasure  at.  Yet  I  know,  when  Gods  Bible  was  banished  the 
Court,  and  Morte  Arthure  receiued  into  the  Princes  chamber.  What  toyes,  the 
dayly  readyng  of  such  a  booke,  may  worke  in  the  will  of  a  yong  ientleman,  or  a 
yong  mayde,  that  liueth  welthelie  and  idlelie,  wise  men  can  iudge,  and  honest  men 
do  pitie.* 

The  whole  weight  of  the  humanistic  movement  was  directed, 
constructively  in  favor  of  the  classical  literatures  and  destructively 
against  the  survivals  of  the  vernacular  literatures. 

Through  the  centuries,  in  proportion  as  this  theory  became 
more  firmly  established,  the  effect  was  cumulative.  Originally, 
as  we  have  seen,  it  was  applied  to  the  old  romances;  later  it 
condemned  Shakespeare.  Addison  supports  his  admiration  for 
Paradise  Lost  by  careful  parallelism  with  Vergil.  And,  when  Gray 
substitutes  English  names  for  the  classical  examples  in  the  cele- 
brated stanza  in  his  Elegy,  it  marks  a  new  literary  epoch.     On  this 

1  Cf.  Chapter  II,  pp.  llft-119. 

'  ScholemasteT,  op.  cit.,  80. 

*  Professor  Crane,  Mod.  Lang.  Pub.  XXX  No.  2,  regrets  that  there  has  been  no 
systematic  study  of  the  history  of  the  romance  during  the  sixteenth  century.  One 
of  the  reasons  for  the  change  in  taste  by  which  they  suflFered  is  shown  in  such  a 
passage  as  this  by  Ascham.  The  pupil  was  taught  to  regard  them  as  both  childish 
and  immoral. 


HUMANISM  325 

subject,  there  are  two  comments  to  be  made  that  seem  antithetical. 
First,  that  the  result  was  to  make  the  English  nation,  Uke  Vanity 
Fair,  without  a  hero.  Today  the  EngUsh  army  marches  to  a  tune 
the  words  of  which  are 

Some  talk  of  Alexander, 

And  some  of  Hercules, 
Of  Hector,  and  Lysander, 

And  such  great  names  as  these. 

At  least  it  may  be  said  of  Guy  of  Warwick,  or  Bevis  of  Hampton 
that  they  were  EngUshmen!  The  second  is  that  the  old  heroes 
persisted,  and  in  spite  of  the  critics,  the  literature  was  read.  Arthur 
is  the  hero  of  the  Faerie  Queene,  Chevy  Chase  thrilled  Sidney, 
Milton  meditated  a  poem  on  the  Arthurian  legend,  Dryden 
modernized  the  Flower  and  the  Leaf,  and  Addison  saw  pathos  in 
the  old  ballads.  The  explanation  of  this  apparent  anomaly  reveals 
the  most  unhappy  result  of  humanism.  The  tendency  of  the 
revival  of  learning  was  to  divide  the  nation  into  two  separate 
camps,  the  learned  and  the  unlearned.  For  the  learned,  there  grew 
up  an  esoteric,  exotic  literature,  whose  roots  never  reached  down 
into  the  national  life.  Of  this,  the  extreme  example  is  the  pastoral. 
However  beautiful  to  the  trained  ear,  and  however  delightful  to 
the  cultivated  taste,  is  the  Lycidas,  its  appeal  is  definitely  limited. 
To  go  a  step  farther, — to  expect  Windsor  Forest  to  be  read  with 
enjoyment  by  the  shepherd, — it  is  the  reductio  ad  absurdum.  The 
answer  is  that  neither  Milton  nor  Pope  expected  the  poems  to  be 
read  by  the  shepherd!  They  were  consciously  writing  for  highly- 
trained  audiences;  and  in  so  far  as  they  were  doing  so,  they  were 
consciously  Umiting  their  appeal.  Such  poems  are  literature  of 
the  clique,  not  of  the  country.  Neither  in  their  own  age,  nor  in 
any  subsequent  time  have  they  been  truly  national.  But  by  this 
fact  nine  tenths  of  the  nation  were  deprived  of  trained  writers. 
Naturally  they  also  had  their  poems  and  their  poets,  who  equally 
lacked  the  ability  to  appeal  to  the  cultivated.  The  humanistic 
theory  thus  clove  the  nation  in  twain.  Not  until  the  reaction 
against  the  whole  idea  became  dominant  was  it  possible  to  have  a 
single  writer,  such  as  had  been  Chaucer,  that  could  epitomize  his 
epoch. ^     For  two  centuries  and  a  half  English  literature  is  the 

'  Of  course  this  is  not  true  of  the  drama,  which  by  the  necessity  of  box  rt-ctipts 
had  to  cater  to,  and  thereby  represent,  the  groundlings.    Imagine  the  immense  loss 


826  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

record  of  curiously  local  writers,  with  the  occasional  emergence  of 
a  book  such  as  Pilgrim's  Progress,  or  of  a  man,  such  as  Burns, 
who  makes  a  wide  appeal.^  Literature  is  essentially  democratic, 
and  the  sin  of  humanism  was  pride  of  the  intellect. 

That  this  most  unhappy  condition  was  begun  by  the  humanists 
with  the  best  of  motives  is  quite  clear.  They  are  nothing  if  not 
moral.  Believing  as  they  did  that  the  true  exemplars  for  right 
living  were  to  be  found  in  classical  times,  they  naturally  stressed 
the  knowledge  of  reading  Latin  and  Greek.  But  their  Latin  was 
quite  different  in  principle  from  that  of  the  scholastics.  As  they 
wished  to  approximate  the  classical  living,  they  also  aimed  to  ap- 
proximate classical  expression.  Therefore  the  vital,  expressive 
Latin  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  exchanged  for  a  speech  that  was 
frigidly  correct.  So  Vives  instructs  Mountjoy  in  the  art  of  conver- 
sation: "^ 

Speak  yourself  as  you  hear  the  instructed  speak,  or  as  you  read  in  Latin  writers. 
Shun  the  words  which  you  consider  of  doubtful  value  both  in  speech  and  in  writing, 
unless  first  you  have  got  to  know  from  your  teacher  that  they  are  Latin.  With 
those  who  speak  Latin  imperfectly,  whose  conversation  may  corrupt  your  own, 
rather  speak  English  or  any  other  language  in  which  there  is  not  the  same  danger. 

Much  the  same  position  is  that  taken  by  Elyot:  ^ 

Lorde  god,  howe  many  good  and  clene  wittes  of  children  be  nowe  a  dayes  perisshed 
by  ignorant  schole  maisters.  Howe  Htle  substancial  doctrine  is  apprehended  by  the 
fewenesse  of  good  gramariens?  ...  I  call  nat  them  gramariens,  whiche  onely  can 
teach  or  make  rules,  wherby  a  childe  shall  onely  leme  to  speake  congrue  latine,  or 
to  make  sixe  versis  standyng  in  one  fote,  wherin  perchance  shal  be  neither  sentence 
nor  eloquence.  But  I  name  hym  a  gramarien,  by  the  autoritie  of  Quintilian,  that 
speakyng  latine  elegantly,  can  expounde  good  autours,  expressynge  the  inuention 
and  disposition  of  the  mater,  their  stile  or  fourme  of  eloquence,  explicating  the 
figures  as  well  of  sentences  as  wordes,  leuyng  nothyng,  persone,  or  place  named  by 
the  autour,  undeclared  or  hidde  from  his  scholars.  Wherfore  Quintilian  saith,  it  is 
nat  inough  for  hym  to  haue  rad  poetes,  but  all  kyndes  of  writyng  must  also  be 
sought  for;  nat  for  the  histories  only,  but  also  for  the  propretie  of  wordes,  whiche 
communely  do  receiue  theyr  autoritie  of  noble  autours.  More  ouer  without  musike 
gramer  may  nat  be  perfecte;  for  as  moche  as  therin  muste  be  spoken  of  metres  and 

to  literature,  if  the  whole  of  Shakespeare's  productivity  had  been  forced  to  flow  in 
the  channels  of  the  poems  and  the  sonnets! 

^  The  sceptic  may  be  safely  referred  to  the  authors  entombed  in  Johnson's  Poeta. 

*  Watson,  Vives,  op.  cit.,  244. 

*  The  Gouemour,  op.  cit.,  69-71. 


HUMANISM  827 

harmonies,  called  rythmi  in  greke.  Neither  if  he  haue  nat  the  knowlege  of  sterres, 
he  may  imderatande  poetes,  which  in  description  of  times  (I  omitte  other  things) 
they  traicte  of  the  risinge  and  goinge  dovpne  of  pianettes.  Also  he  may  nat  be 
ignorant  in  philosophie,  for  many  places  that  be  almooste  in  euerye  poete  fetched 
out  of  the  most  subtile  parte  of  naturall  questions.  These  be  well  nighe  the  wordes 
of  Quintilian. 

After  this,  one  is  not  surprised  at  his  remark  that  there  are  few 
grammarians  of  this  sort  in  England,  nor  at  his  attack  upon  the 
contemporary  state  of  learning.  Then  he  continues  with  another 
summary  from  Quintilian,  to  the  effect  that  such  education  should 
be  gained  when  young.  Naturally  we  find  Ascham  following  the 
tradition  :* 

AH  this  while,  by  mine  aduise,  the  childe  shall  vse  to  speake  no  latine;  For,  as 
Cicero  saith  in  like  matter,  with  like  wordes,  loquendo,  male  loqui  discunt.  And,  that 
excellent  learned  man,  G.  Budaeus,  in  his  Greeke  Commentaries,  sore  complaineth, 
that  whan  he  began  to  leame  the  latin  tonge,  vse  of  speaking  latin  at  the  table,  and 
elsewhere,  vnaduisedlie,  did  bring  him  to  soch  an  euill  choice  of  wordes,  to  soch  a 
crooked  framing  of  sentences,  that  no  one  thing  did  hurt  or  hinder  him  more,  all  the 
daies  of  his  life  afterward,  both  for  redinesse  in  speaking,  and  also  good  iudgement 
in  writinge. 

In  very  deedc,  if  children  were  brought  vp,  in  soch  a  house,  or  soch  a  Schole, 
where  the  latin  tonge  were  properlie  and  perfitlie  spoken,  as  Tib.  and  Ca.  Gracci 
were  brought  vp,  in  their  mother  Cornelias  house,  surelie,  than  the  dailie  vse  of 
speaking,  were  the  best  and  readiest  waie,  to  leame  the  latin  tong.  But  now,  com- 
monlie,  in  the  best  Scholes  in  England,  for  wordes,  the  right  choice  is  smallie  re- 
garded, true  proprietrie  whollie  neglected,  confusion  is  brought  in,  barbariousnesse 
b  bred  up  so  in  yong  wittse,  as  afterward  they  be,  not  onelie  marde  for  speaking,  but 
also  corrupted  in  iudgement:  as  with  moch  adoe,  or  neuer  at  all,  they  be  brought  to 
right  frame  againe. 

Yet  all  men  couet  to  haue  their  children  speake  latin:  and  so  do  I  verie  eamestlie 
too.  We  bothe,  haue  one  purpose:  we  agree  in  desire,  we  wish  one  end:  but  we 
differ  somewhat  in  order  and  waie,  that  leadeth  rightlie  to  that  end.  Other  would 
haue  them  speake  at  all  aduentures:  and,  so  they  be  speakinge,  to  speake,  the  Master 
careth  not,  the  Scholer  knoweth  not,  what.  This  is,  to  seeme,  and  not  to  bee:  except 
it  be,  to  be  bolde  without  shame,  rashe  without  skill,  full  of  wordes  without 
witte.  .  .  .  For,  good  vnderstanding  must  first  be  bred  in  the  childe,  which, 
being  nurished  with  skill,  and  vse  of  writing  (as  I  will  teach  more  largelie  here- 
after) is  the  onelie  waie  to  bring  him  to  iudgement  and  readinesse  in  speakinge: 
and  that  in  farre  shorter  time  (if  he  follow  constantlie  the  trade  of  this  litle  lesson) 
then  he  shall  do,  by  common  teachinge  of  the  common  scholes  in  England. 

In  such  passages  as  these,  the  reaction  against  the  colloquial 
Medieval  Latin  is  manifest,  and  also  the  change  from  the  vital 

i  The  SchoUmaaUr,  op.  eit.,  2S-29. 


S28  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

spoken  language  to  the  point  of  view  that  to  speak  Latin  was 
primarily  a  polite  accomplishment.  The  appeal  is  now  to  the  eye 
rather  than  to  the  ear,  since  the  language  has  become  a  medium 
of  communication,  not  with  the  living,  but  rather  with  the  mighty 
dead.^  But  partly  due  to  this  fact,  to  the  very  honest  belief  that 
in  communion  with  the  classic  spirit  lay  the  hope  for  modern 
regeneration,  and  partly  due  to  the  personal  influence  of  Erasmus, 
"the  honour  of  learning  of  all  oure  time,"  ^  little  stress  was  put 
upon  grammar  in  the  narrow  sense,  and  still  less  upon  Ciceronian- 
ism.  To  this  extent  the  Latin  of  the  English  humanists,  by 
their  insistence  upon  content  rather  than  upon  form,  during  the 
sixteenth  century  was  saved  from  the  mummification  that  speedily 
overtook  it  in  Europe.  As  their  aim  was  the  p)erfect  life,  and  as 
examples  of  such  living  were  to  be  found  in  the  Greek,  Latin  was 
considered  rather  as  a  means  to  that  end,  than  as  valuable  for  it- 
self. The  mechanism  of  the  language,  therefore,  was  merely  a 
means  of  reaching  the  moral  ideal. 

With  the  realization  of  this  guiding  principle,  two  corollaries 
follow  from  it  logically.  The  first  is  the  emphasis  placed  upon 
having  proper  teachers,  men  that  shall  teach  through  love,  not 
fear.  They  must  be  such  that  to  the  pupil  they  seem  the  embodi- 
ment of  the  classical  ideal.  He  must  be  drawn,  not  driven,  to  the 
wells  of  inspiration,  by  the  practical  example  of  the  tutor.  Thus 
Vives  explains  to  young  Mountjoy: ' 

The  teacher  is  no  less  to  be  loved,  esteemed,  revered  than  a  father.  Truly 
teachers  bear  a  certain  image  of  our  fathers  to  us,  for  you  can  receive  no  greater 
kindness  than  that  of  being  made  more  scholarly  (eruditus)  and  better  morally — 
for  to  these  two  gifts  nothing  in  life  can  be  compared.  Add  to  this,  if  you  love 
your  teacher,  you  leam  more  easily.  You  will  then  never  despise  what  he  says, 
nor  neglect  his  behests.    Always  in  your   mind   accord  dignity  to  the  teacher, 

^  This  is  of  course  implied  in  the  emphasis  upon  Greek.  The  Scholemaster,  60: 
"  Now,  let  Italian,  and  Latin  it  self,  Spanishe,  French,  Douch,  and  Englishe  bring 
forth  their  leming,  and  recite  their  Authors,  Cicero  onelie  excepted,  and  in  one  or 
two  moe  in  Latin,  they  be  all  patched  cloutes  and  ragges,  in  comparison  of  faire 
wouen  broade  cloathes.  And  trewelie,  if  there  be  any  good  in  them,  it  is  either 
lemed,  borowed,  or  stolne,  from  some  one  of  those  worthie  wittes  of  Athens." 

But  Greek  was  never  generally  used  as  a  spoken  language.  This  is  Skelton's 
objection  to  it.    Cf.  passage  cited  Chapter  III. 

*  The  Scholemaster,  op.  cit.,  62. 

*  Watson,  Vives,  op.  cit.,  iAi. 


HUMANISM  829 

and  treat  his  words  as  oracles.  Do  not  merely  love  him,  but  strive  to  be  loved 
in  return  by  him  that  so  he  will  teach  you  the  more  diligently.  By  obeying  his 
precepts  closely  and  modestly,  and  by  observing,  honouring  him  in  all  he  says 
or  does,  or  esteems  in  life  or  speech,  so  act  that  he  will  feel  that  you  also  approve 
it.  If  he  disapproves  anything,  then  do  you  also  shun  it.  Listen  to  him  in- 
tently— to  his  words,  his  forms  of  speech,  note  down  his  opinions,  and  make  your- 
self as  far  as  possible,  like  him;  take  him  for  example,  because  when  the  teacher 
shall  see  this  he  will  take  pains  that  you  shall  not  possibly  receive  from  him  any- 
thing which  would  be  unworthy  of  imitation. 

In  these  extreme  statements  Vives  here  has  outlined  the  main  con- 
tentions of  the  humanists.  After  this,  it  is  not  surprising  to  find 
Elyot  lauding  the  profession  of  teacher,  bemoaning  the  Httle 
respect  paid  to  it,  and  claiming  that  avaricious  parents  select  a 
servant  for  their  horses  more  carefully  than  a  tutor  for  their 
children.    The  tutor  * 

.  .  .  shulde  be  an  aimcient  and  worshipfull  man,  in  whom  is  aproued  to  be 
moche  gentilnes,  mixte  with  grauitie,  and,  as  nighe  as  can  be,  suche  one  as  the 
childe  by  imitation  folowynge  may  growe  to  be  excellent. 

Such  careful  selection  is  essential  because  there  is  to  be  no  forcing 
the  pupil  to  leam.^ 

Therfore  that  infelicitie  of  our  tyme  and  countray  compelleth  us  to  encroche 
some  what  upon  the  yeres  of  children,  and  specially  of  noble  men,  that  they  may 
sooner  attayne  to  wisedome  and  grauitie  than  priuate  persones,  consideryng,  as 
I  haue  saide,  their  charge  and  example,  whiche,  aboue  all  thynges,  is  most  to 
be  estemed.  Nat  withstandyng,  I  wolde  nat  haue  them  inforced  by  violence  to 
leme,  but  accordynge  to  the  counsaile  of  Quintilian,  to  be  swetely  allured  therto 
with  praises  and  suche  praty  gyftes  as  children  deUte  in. 

Ascham  follows  in  the  same  strain  with  almost  the  same  phrases. 
The  teacher  must  have  "this  gentle  nature"  because  the  children 
are  to  be  "allured  to  learning. "  Fear  must  be  banished  from  the 
school.' 

If  your  scholer  do  misse  sometimes,  in  marking  rightlie  these  foresaid  sixe  thinges, 
chide  not  hastelie:  for  that  shall,  both  dull  his  wittc,  and  discorage  his  diligence: 
but  monish  him  gentelie:  which  shall  make  him  both  willing  to  amende,  and  glad 
to  go  forward  in  loue  and  hope  of  learning. 


'  The  Oouemour,  op.  cit.,  23. 

*lbid,  21. 

*  The  ScholemasUr,  op.  eit.,  SI. 


330  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

And  the  very  reason  for  writing  the  Scholemaster  was  due  to  a 
conversation  starting  from  the  statement  that  scholars  were 
rmining  away  from  Eton  for  fear  of  beatings,  and  that  Sackville 
himself  felt  that  the  punishments  inflicted  upon  him  in  his  youth 
had  been  a  detriment  to  his  learning.  To  avoid  such  a  calamity 
to  his  own  son,  he  turned  to  Ascham.  Clearly  this  position  of  the 
humanists  represents  a  reaction  from  the  medieval  theory  and 
practice.    Nor  did  it  conquer  easily.    Even  in  1563,^ 

Haddon  was  fuUie  of  M.  Peters  opinion,  and  said,  that  the  best  Scholemaster 
of  our  time,  was  the  greatest  beater,  and  named  the  Person. 

On  the  other  hand,  as  Watson  points  out  in  his  preface  to 
the  Gouemour,  the  metaphor  of  the  gardener  coaxing  his  plants 
as  applicable  to  teaching  is  afterwards  used  by  Pestalozzi  and 
Froebel.  This  theory  is  thus  curiously  modern,  and  is  but  an- 
other example  of  the  anticipation  on  the  part  of  the  humanists  of 
the  trend  of  modem  thought. 

The  other  corollary  follows  logically  from  the  first.  If  the  pupil 
is  to  be  so  allured  to  learning,  and  if  Latin  is  to  be  kept  in  the  state 
of  pristine  purity,  clearly  some  means  of  communication,  beyond 
dumb-show,  must  exist  between  the  teacher  and  the  pupil.  If 
Latin  may  not  be  used,  some  other  language  must  be  substituted. 
Therefore  the  humanists  were  driven  into  advocating  the  study 
and  the  use  of  the  vernacular.    This  was  done  first  by  Vives: —  ^ 

Let  the  teacher  know  the  mother-tongue  of  his  boys,  so  that  by  that  means  he 
may  with  the  more  ease  and  readiness  teach  the  learned  languages.  For  unless 
he  makes  use  of  the  right  and  proper  expressions  in  the  mother-tongue,  he  will 
certainly  mislead  the  boys,  and  the  error  thus  imbibed  will  accompany  them 
persistently  as  they  grow  up,  and  as  men.  Nor  can  boys  understand  anything 
sufficiently  well  in  their  own  language  unless  the  words  are  said  with  the  utmost 
clearness.  Let  the  teacher  preserve  in  his  memory  all  the  old  forms  of  vernacular 
words,  and  let  him  develop  the  knowledge  not  only  of  modem  forms  but  also  of 
the  old  words  and  those  which  have  gone  out  of  use,  and  let  him  be  as  it  were  the 
guardian  of  the  treasury  of  his  language.  Unless  this  be  so,  when  any  language 
undergoes  numerous  changes,  books  written  a  hundred  years  ago  will  not  be  under- 
stood by  succeeding  generations.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  many  things  in  the 
Twelve  Tables  escaped  the  knowledge  of  Cicero  and  many  jurisconsults;  so,  too, 
many  things  become  unknown  in  the  current  speech  of  living  languages. 

^Ibid,  18. 

*  Quoted,  together  with  the  Latin,  in  the  Preface  of  Watson's  edition  of  the 
Gouemour,  op.  cit.,  XXV  and  XXVI. 


HUMANISM  S31 

Much  the  same  purport  is  to  be  found  in  Elyot:  * 

But  to  retourne  to  my  purpose,  hit  shall  be  expedient  that  a  noble  mannes 
Sonne,  in  his  infancie,  haue  with  hym  continually  onely  suche  as  may  accustome 
hym  by  litle  and  litle  to  speake  pure  and  elegant  latin.  Semblably  the  nourises 
and  other  women  about  hym,  if  it  be  possible,  to  do  the  same:  or,  at  the  leste  way, 
that  they  speke  none  englisshe  but  that  which  is  cleane,  polite,  perfectly  and 
articulately  pronoimced,  omittinge  no  lettre  or  sillable,  as  foHsshe  women  often 
times  do  of  a  wantonnesse,  whereby  diuers  noble  men  and  gentilmennes  chyldren, 
(as  I  do  at  this  daye  knowe)  haue  attained  comipte  and  foule  pronuntiation. 

It  would  be  hard  to  overestimate  the  value  of  this  endorsement  of 
the  English  language  by  the  humanists.  With  the  more  general 
spread  of  the  humanistic  theory  through  the  centuries  was  bound 
up  a  careful  respect  for  the  vernacular.  Academic  prestige  and 
critical  approval  were  hereby  bestowed  upon  the  mother-tongue. 
It  may  well  be  considered  a  factor  of  no  mean  importance. 

On  the  other  hand,  eulogies  on  the  subject  have  usually  gone 
too  far.  It  is  to  be  noticed  that  the  endorsement  of  the  humanists 
was  solely  of  the  language;  nothing  is  said  or  implied  of  the  Utera- 
ture.  Nor  was  the  language  studied  for  itself.  In  the  passage 
quoted,  Vives  is  explicit  that  he  regards  a  knowledge  of  English 
merely  as  a  helpful  pedagogic  device  for  teaching  Latin.  ^  This 
is  more  clearly  shown  by  another  passage  of  the  De  Tradendis 
Disdplinis: ' 

The  scholars  should  first  speak  in  their  homes  their  mother  tongue,  which  is 
bom  with  them,  and  the  teacher  should  correct  their  mistakes.  Then  they  should, 
little  by  little,  learn  Latin.  Next  let  them  intermingle  with  the  vernacular  what 
they  have  heard  in  Latin  from  the  teacher,  or  what  they  themselves  have  learned. 
Thus,  at  first,  their  language  should  be  a  mixture  of  the  mother-tongue  and  Latin. 
But  outside  the  school  they  should  speak  the  mother-tongue  so  that  they  should 
not  become  accustomed  to  a  hotch-potch  of  languages.  .  .  Gradually  the  develop- 
ment advances  and  the  scholars  become  Latinists  in  the  narrower  sense.  Now 
must  they  seek  to  express  their  thoughts  in  Latin,  for  nothing  serves  so  much  to 

'  The  Gouemour,  op.  cit.,  22. 

*  Kuypers,  op.  cit.,  54  thus  summarizes  Vives'  position:  Wenn  auch  auf  pflege 
und  reinhaltung  der  muttersprache  ein  sehr  groszes  gewicht  gelegt  und  vom  lehrer 
vcriangt  wird,  dasz  er  nicht  blosz  jeden  verstosz  gegen  dieselbe  corrigiere,  sondern 
sogar  eine  grtindliche  kenntnis  der  entwicklungsgeschichte  der  muttersprache 
besitze,  so  ist  sie  doch  noch  nicht  aelbsidndiges  unterrichtsfach,  sondern  nur  ein 
hilfsmittel  zur  verdeutlichung.     The  italics  are  his  own. 

^  De  Tradendis  Diaciplinxs,  Rk.  iii,  Cnf).  3;  the  translation  b  taken  from 
Foster  Watson's  Dialogues  of  a  Tudor  Schoolboy,  xlvii. 


832  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  learning  of  a  language  as  continuous  practice  in  it.  He  who  is  ashamed  to 
speak  a  language  has  no  talent  for  it.  He  who  refuses  to  speak  Latin  after  he 
has  been  learning  it  for  a  year  must  be  punished  according  to  his  age  and  circum- 
stances. 

Elyot  is  equally  definite  in  his  preference  for  the  Latin;  since  this 
is  scarcely  practical  in  the  early  years,  the  best  way  is  to  insure 
good  English  that  later  the  pupil  may  not  become  confused.  But 
in  the  minds  of  neither  is  there  any  parity  between  the  languages. 
And  this  is,  of  course,  the  point  of  view  of  Ascham  in  his  celebrated 
apology:^ 

If  any  man  woulde  blame  me,  eyther  for  takynge  such  a  matter  in  hande,  or 
els  for  writing  it  in  the  Englyshe  tongue,  this  answere  I  may  make  hym,  that  whan 
the  beste  of  the  realme  thinke  it  honest  for  them  to  vse,  I  one  of  the  meanest  sorte, 
ought  not  to  suppose  it  vile  for  me  to  write:  And  though  to  haue  written  it  in 
another  tonge,  had  bene  bothe  more  profitable  for  my  study,  and  also  more  honest 
for  my  name,  yet  I  can  thinke  my  labour  wel  bestowed,  yf  with  a  little  hynderaunce 
of  my  profyt  and  name,  maye  come  any  fourtheraunce,  to  the  pleasure  or  commod- 
itie,  of  the  gentlemen  and  yeomen  of  Englande,  for  whose  sake  I  tooke  this  matter 
in  hande. 

The  motive  here  for  writing  in  English  is  frankly  unselfish,  and 
the  author  claims  the  merit  of  sacrifice.  This  differs  in  toto  from 
the  Lydgatian  apology,  the  lament  for  lack  of  cunning  implies  that 
such  cunning  is  possible.  He  does  not  write  English,  as  did  Skel- 
ton,  because  he  enjoys  it,  nor,  as  does  More,  because  he  is  driven 
to  it.  Much  less  does  he  choose  English,  as  Bembo  does  Italian, 
because  he  thinks  it  the  proper  medium  for  artistic  expression. 
On  the  contrary  he  feels  that  what  he  has  to  impart  is  so  necessary 
for  the  well-being  of  his  readers,  that  even  to  his  own  disadvantage 
he  is  willing  to  stoop  to  conquer.  And  again  it  is  hard  to  estimate 
the  exact  result  brought  about  by  this  view.  We  have  all  of  us, 
in  England  more  than  in  America,  inherited  a  prejudice  in  favor 
of  classical  study  and  against  study  in  the  vernacular.  The  proof 
of  this  statement  may  be  found  in  the  lack  of  scholars,  between 
1550  and  1850,  that  have  devoted  themselves  to  the  study  of 
English  and  also  have  been  connected  professionally  with  our  uni- 
versities." Coincident  with  this  is  the  further  fact  that  the  great 
scholarly  work  on  English  subjects  was  considered  rather  an  avo- 

^  Toxopkiliia,  op.  dl.,  18. 

*  Thomas  Warton  b,  of  course,  the  great  exception. 


HUMANISM  333 

cation  than  a  vocation,  and  was  done  by  men  trained  for  the 
Church  or  the  bar.  One  result  certainly  is  that  in  the  academic 
field  the  study  of  English,  either  of  the  language  or  the  literature,  is 
a  recent  entrant,  and  as  such  is  not  yet  quite  clear  as  to  its  function. 
Historically  there  is  no  precedent.  Perhaps  largely  for  this  reason, 
there  has  been  a  tendency  towards  the  development  of  extreme  in- 
dividualism. There  has  been  no  Delia  Crusca  and  no  Academy 
to  offset  the  influence  of  the  single  author,  so  that  the  history  of 
English  Uterature  is  truly  the  record  of  its  great  men.  And  we 
have  the  "dictators  of  literature,"  Ben  Jonson,  Dry  den.  Pope, 
and  Dr.  Johnson.  Negatively,  this  attitude  has  been  somewhat 
responsible  for  the  chaotic  orthography  and  the  distorted  grammar 
of  the  English  language;  criticism  has  tended  to  be  merely  the  ex- 
pression of  personal  prejudice,  and  scholarship  the  collection  of 
biographic  detail.  Perhaps  it  is  unfair  to  throw  the  whole  of 
this  load  upon  the  shoulders  of  humanism,  but  it  is  not  doubtful 
that  the  theories  propounded  by  the  humanists,  and  eventually 
accepted  by  the  nation,  played  no  little  part  in  the  paradoxical 
attitude  maintained  toward  the  study  of  English  by  the  English- 
speaking  races. 

One  more  result  of  the  doctrine  of  humanism  remains  to  be 
mentioned,  namely  its  effect  upon  the  education  of  women.  Again 
one  is  conscious  in  the  attitude  of  the  humanists  of  a  recoil  against 
the  medieval  practice.  At  best  the  Christian  theory  of  education 
for  women  is  based  on  the  heart  rather  than  on  the  head.  The 
Christian  ideal  woman  is  a  combination  of  Mary  and  Martha,  of 
faith  and  good  works.  The  perfect  woman  of  the  Proverbs  would 
seem  to  have  but  little  time  for  the  cultivation  of  learning,  and  the 
wisdom  with  which  she  openeth  her  mouth  is  presumably  gained 
only  from  personal  experience.  Consequently  the  Christian  saint 
was  distinguished  for  humility  like  Santa  Clara,  for  aspiration 
like  Santa  Teresa,  for  acuteness  like  Santa  Caterina  of  Siena,  and 
for  action  like  Joan  of  Arc,  but  learning  is  not  one  of  her  attributes. 
Vives,  when  he  wishes  to  cite  examples  of  female  erudition,  is 
rather  hard  put  to  it :  ^ 

And  in  St.  Jerome's  time  all  holy  women  were  very  well  learned.  Would  Grod 
that  nowadays,  many  old  men  were  able  to  be  compared  unto  them  in  cimning.  St. 
Jerome  writeth  unto  Paula,  I..aeta,  Eustachiii,  Fabiola,  Marcella,  Pruia,  Demetriaa, 

'  Wataon,  Vivet,  op.  cU.,  p.  52. 


884  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Salma,  Hierontia.  St.  Ambrose  unto  other;  St.  Augustine  unto  other:  and  all 
marvellous  witted,  well  learned  and  holy.  Valeria  Proba,  which  loved  her  hus- 
band singularly  well,  made  the  life  of  our  Lord  Christ  out  of  Virgil's  verses.  Writers 
of  chronicles  say  that  Theodosia,  daughter  to  Theodosius  the  younger,  was  as 
noble  by  her  learning  and  virtue,  as  by  her  empire:  and  the  makings  that  be  taken 
out  of  Homer,  named  Centones  be  called  hers.  I  have  read  epistles  and  cunning 
works  of  Hildegarde,  a  maid  of  Almaine.  .  . 

Compare  with  the  almost  unknown  persons  of  this  list  the  famous 
women  of  antiquity,  famous  alike  for  their  beauty  and  for  their 
wit,  the  Sapphos,  Aspasias,  Cornelias,  Zenobias,  and  the  contrast 
is  evident.  Equally  evident  is  it  also  that  many  of  these  same 
women  were  more  blest  with  learning  than  with  conventional 
morality.  "  Phryne,  with  her  beauty  bare  "  is  scarcely  the  ideal  of 
the  New  Testament.  The  problem  of  the  humanists  was,  there- 
fore, here  also,  to  reconcile  pagan  culture  with  Christian  ideals. 

This  attempt  was,  for  the  English  public,  first  made  in  Vives' 
De  Institutione  Foeminoe  Christiance,  written  for  the  Princess 
Mary  and  dedicated  to  Katharine  of  Aragon  in  1523.^  The  aim 
of  the  book  advowedly  is  to  preach  virtue.^ 

Moreover,  though  the  precepts  for  men  be  innumerable:  women  yet  may  be 
informed  with  few  words.  For  men  must  be  occupied  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
both  in  their  own  matters  and  for  the  common  weal.  Therefore  it  cannot  be 
declared  in  few  books,  but  in  many  and  long,  how  they  shall  handle  themselves, 
in  so  many  and  divers  things.  As  for  a  woman,  she  hath  no  charge  to  see  to,  but 
her  honesty  and  chastity.  Wherefore  when  she  is  informed  of  that,  she  is  suffi- 
ciently appointed.  Wherefore  their  wickedness  is  the  more  cursed  and  detest- 
able, that  go  about  to  perish  that  one  treasure  of  women:  as  though  a  man  had 
but  one  eye,  and  another  would  go  about  to  put  it  out. 

A  great  proportion  of  the  tract  consists  in  passages  dealing  with 
daily  life,  customs,  and  manners  in  which  the  tone  differs  not  at 
all  from  that  of  a  sermon.    One  such  will  sufficiently  illustrate.^ 

But  here  some  man  would  say:  What,  wouldst  thou  have  women  to  be  filthy 
and  sluttish?     Nay,  verily,  I  would  not  have  them  so,  nor  my  precepts  be  not 

iPubUshed  at  Antwerp  152S;  Basle,  1538,  1540;  Basle,  1541  (circ.);  Hanover, 
1614.  Translated  into  English  by  Richard  Hyrde,  London,  Berthelet,  probably 
1540,  republished  1541,  1557,  1592,  and  represented  by  extracts  of  the  significant 
portions  in  Watson's  Vives  and  the  Renascence  Education  of  Women,  1912,  from 
which  these  facts  are  taken. 

'  These  quotations  are  taken  from  Hyrde's  translation,  as  modernized  by  Wat- 
son, 34.      Vives'  Preface. 

*  Watson,  op.  cit.,  82-83. 


HUMANISM  835 

so  unclean,  nor  I  like  not  sluttishness.  And  what  manner  a  ones  they  should 
be,  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  two  defenders  of  the  Chiu-ch,  teach  in  two  short  pre- 
cepts. St.  Peter  saith:  Let  not  the  outward  apparel  of  women  be  decked  with 
the  braiding  of  her  hair,  nor  with  wrapping  of  gold  about  it,  or  goodly  clothing, 
but  the  mind  and  the  conscience,  that  is  not  seen  with  eyes,  if  it  be  pure  and  quiet, 
that  is  a  goodly  thing,  and  excellent  afore  God.  And  St.  Paul  saith:  Women 
in  their  array  should  apparel  themselves  with  shamefastness  and  soberness  and 
not  with  braids  of  their  hairs,  or  gold,  or  pearls,  or  precious  clothing,  but  as  women 
ought  to  do,  let  them  show  virtue  by  good  works.  When  the  Apostles  say  these 
words,  they  bid  not  women  be  sluttish  and  slubbered,  nor  foul  with  dirt  and 
clouts,  but  they  counsel  them  from  superfluous  raiment,  and  will  them  to  use 
mean  clothing,  and  such  as  is  easy  to  come  by.  For  measureableness  hath  his 
cleanness,  and  that  far  more  pure  than  the  great  excess  hath,  as  it  is  more  easy  to 
keep  a  Uttle  vessel  than  a  great  many.  Let  her  not  be  clothed  with  velvet,  but 
with  woollen;  nor  with  silk  but  linen,  and  that  coarse.  Let  not  her  raiment  shine. 
Let  it  not  be  sluttish.  Let  it  not  to  be  wondered  on,  nor  let  it  be  to  be  loathed. 
As  for  the  wearing  of  gold  or  silver,  pearl  or  precious  stones,  I  see  not  what  it  is 
good  for,  saving  that  the  virtue  of  some  stones  is  more  set  by  than  the  show,  as 
coral  or  emerald,  if  at  least  ways,  those  little  things  have  so  much  virtue  in  them 
as  men  say,  but  now  mo  seek  them  for  vanity  that  they  may  seem  more  rich,  than 
for  the  virtue. 

Nor  let  her  not  paint  nor  anoint  her  face,  but  wash  it,  and  make  it  clean;  nor 
dye  her  hair,  but  comb  it  cleanly,  nor  suffer  her  head  to  be  full  of  scurf.  Nor  let 
her  not  delight  to  wash  it  in  sweet  savours,  nor  to  keep  it  stinking,  nor  look  in  a 
^ass  to  paint  her,  or  trim  her  gaily  by,  but  to  have  away  if  any  foul  thing  or  un- 
comely be  on  her  head  that  she  could  not  else  see,  and  then  let  her  array  herself 
thereby,  lest  anything  be  in  her  face  to  defile  her,  being  else  chaste  and  sober. 

Such  admonitions  as  the  foregoing  have  been  the  stock  platitudes 
from  the  beginning  of  the  Church  and  have  furnished  the  basis 
for  sumptuary  laws  throughout  history.  Both  the  preacher  and 
the  lawyer,  although  often  at  odds,  are  here  united  in  blessed 
harmony  in  denouncing  feminine  extravagance.  Age  cannot 
stale  its  infinite  iteration.  And  here,  as  always,  the  aim  is  plain 
morality. 

However  much  this  aim  may  be  common  to  Christian  thinking, 
the  novelty  imported  by  the  humanists  was  that  woman  should  be 
fortified  against  temptation  by  learning.  This  is  the  point  of  the 
dialogue  of  Erasmus  between  the  Abbot  and  the  Learned  Woman, 
where  the  Abbot's  conventional  objections  are  ridiculed  and  over- 
thrown.   Vives  also  states  it  emphatically.^ 

»  Vives,  De  Officio  Mariti  (1529),  translated  by  Thomas  Paynell  (1550).  Watson. 
op.  cU..  200. 


8S6  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

I  by  experience  have  seen  and  known  the  contrary,  and  that  all  lewd  and  evil 
women  are  unlearned  and  that  they  which  be  learned  are  most  desirous  of  honesty, 
nor  I  cannot  remember  that  ever  I  saw  any  woman  of  learning  or  of  knowledge 
dishonest.  Shall  not  the  subtle  and  crafty  lover  sooner  persuade  it  pleaseth  him 
the  ignorant,  than  her  that  is  fortified  with  wit  and  learning.  This  is  the  only 
cause,  why  all  women  for  the  most  part,  are  hard  to  please,  studious  and  most 
diligent  to  adorn  and  deck  themselves,  marvellers  of  trifles,  in  prosperity  proud 
and  insolent,  in  adversity  abject  and  feeble,  and  for  lack  of  good  learning,  they 
love  and  hate  that  only,  the  which  they  learned  of  their  unlearned  mothers,  and 
examples  of  the  evil,  leaning  to  that  part  only,  that  the  ponderous  and  heavy  body 
is  inclined  and  given  unto. 

Hyrde,  also,  in  his  preface  to  Margaret  Roper's  translation  of  one 
of  the  tracts  of  Erasmus  gives  much  the  same  train  of  reasoning.^ 

And  the  Latin  and  the  Greek  tongue  I  see  not  but  there  is  as  little  hurt  in  them, 
as  in  books  of  English  and  French,  which  men  both  read,  themselves,  for  the 
proper  pastimes  that  be  written  in  them,  and  for  the  witty  and  crafty  conveyance 
of  the  makings:  And  also  can  bear  well  enough,  that  women  read  them,  if  they 
will,  never  so  much,  which  commodities  be  far  better  handled  in  the  Latin  and 
Greek,  than  in  any  other  language.  And  in  them  be  many  holy  doctors'  writings, 
so  devout  and  aflfectuous,  that  whosoever  regardeth  them  must  needs  be  either 
much  better  or  less  evil,  which  every  good  body,  both  man  and  women,  will  read 
and  follow,  rather  than  other.  But  as  for  that,  I  hear  many  men  say  for  the 
greatest  jeopardy  in  this  matter,  in  good  faith  to  be  plain,  methink  it  is  so  foolish 
that  scantly  it  is  worthy,  either  to  be  rehearsed  or  answered  unto,  that  is,  where 
they  say,  if  their  wives  coulde  Latin  or  Greek,  then  might  they  talk  more  boldly 
with  priests  and  friars,  as  who  saith,  there  were  no  better  means  (if  they  were  ill 
disposed)  to  execute  their  purposes  than  by  speaking  Latin  or  Greek;  other  else, 
that  priests  and  friars  were  commonly  so  well  learned,  or  that  they  can  make  their 
bargain  so  readily,  which  thing  is  also  for  contrary,  that  I  suppose  nowadays  a 
man  could  not  devise  a  better  way  to  keep  his  wife  safe  from  them,  than  if  he 
teach  her  the  Latin  and  Greek  tongue,  and  such  good  sciences  as  are  written  in 
them:  the  which  now,  most  part  of  priests,  and  specially  such  as  be  nought,  abhor 
and  fly  from:  yea,  as  fast  in  a  manner  as  they  fly  from  beggars,  that  ask  them 
alms  in  the  street.  And  where  they  find  fault  with  learning,  because  they  say 
it  engendreth  wit  and  craft,  then  they  reprehend  it,  for  that  that  it  is  most  worthy 
to  be  commended  for,  and  the  which  is  one  singular  cause  wherefor  learning  ought 
to  be  desired,  for  he  that  had  leaver  have  his  wife  a  fo6l  than  a  wise  woman,  I 
hold  him  worse  than  twice  frantic.  Also  reading  and  studying  of  books  so  occu- 
pieth  the  mind  that,  it  can  have  no  leisure  to  muse  or  delight  in  other  fantasies, 
where  in  all  handiworks  that  men  say  be  more  meet  for  a  woman,  the  body  may 
be  busy  in  one  place,  and  the  mind  walking  in  another:  and  while  they  sit  sewing 
and  spinning  with  their  fingers,  may  cast  and  compass  many  peevish  fancies  in 

1  Watson,  op.  cit.,  165-167. 


HUMANISM  337 

their  minds,  which  must  needs  be  occupied  either  with  good  or  bad,  so  long  as 
they  be  waking.  And  those  that  be  evil  disposed  will  find  the  means  to  be  nought, 
though  they  can  never  a  letter  in  the  book,  and  she  that  will  be  good,  learning 
shall  cause  her  to  be  much  the  better.  For  it  sheweth  the  image  and  ways  of 
good  living,  even  right  as  the  mirror  sheweth  the  similitude  and  proportion  of 
the  body.  And  doubtless  the  daily  experience  proveth  that  such  as  are  nought 
are  those  that  never  knew  what  learning  meant.  For  I  never  heard  tell,  nor 
read  of  any  woman  well  learned  that  ever  was  (as  plenteous  as  evil  tongues  be) 
spotted  or  infamed  as  vicious.  But  on  the  other  side,  many  by  their  learning 
take,  such  increase  of  goodness  that  many  may  bear  them  witness  of  their  virtue, 
of  which  sort  I  could  rehearse  a  great  number,  both  of  old  time  and  of  late. 

It  is  obvious  here,  and  in  pleas  like  this,  that  a  knowledge  of  clas- 
sical literature  is  not  recommended  for  its  cultural  value.  However 
great  that  may  be,  it  is  disregarded;  here,  as  in  mascuUne  educa- 
tion, a  knowledge  of  Greek  and  Latin  is  desired,  because  in  the 
books  written  in  those  languages  are  to  be  found  the  best  examples 
of  good  living.  When  Vives  chooses  the  authors  for  the  girl  to 
study,  he  quite  frankly  makes  his  selection  for  this  reason.^ 

The  authors  in  whom  she  should  be  versed  are  those  who,  at  the  same  time, 
cultivate  right  language  and  right  living:  those  who  help  to  inculcate  not  only 
knowledge,  but  living  well. 

The  list  that  follows  is  a  mixture  of  Latin  and  Greek  authors, 
classical,  Christian,  and  humanistic,  with  especial  emphasis  upon 
the  New  Testament.  But  with  the  curious  exception  of  Vergil, 
the  list  is  much  the  same  as  that  recommended  for  boys.^  It 
therefore  marks  a  new  conception  of  the  position  of  woman.  The 
medieval  conception  that  she  is  the  handmaid  of  the  devil  and 
that  in  her  person  are  embodied  the  wiles  of  Satan  has  given  way 
to  the  modem  point  of  view,  that  each  sex  has  its  own  function. 
There  is  an  essential  parity.  So  Vives  urges  that  a  man's  wife  is 
his  best  friend,'  and  Elyot  writes  in  defense  of  good  women.  ^  It 
is  the  modem  conception. 

However  modem  this  idea  may  be,  it  is  interesting  to  note  that 
it  was  derived  not  merely  from  theory,  but  also  from  life.    The 

*  Watson,  op.  cit.,  146. 

*  A  somewhat  different  list  is  given  in  De  Officio  Mariti,  where  grammar,  logic, 
history,  statesmanship,  mathematics,  and,  apparently,  poetry  are  reserved  lot 
men.      Watson,  op.  cit.,  £04  206. 

»  Watson,  op.  eit.,  210. 
<  Watson,  op.  cit.,  211. 


8S8  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

origin  of  Vives'  conceptions  may  be  traced  probably  first  to  his 
mother.  Still  more  important  for  the  Englishman  is  it  that  the 
actual  working  out  of  these  ideas  he  found  in  the  household  of 
Sir  Thomas  More.    He  himself  was  conscious  of  this.^ 

Now  if  a  man  may  be  suffered  among  queens  to  speak  of  more  mean  folks,  I 
would  reckon  among  this  sort  the  daughters  of  S  T  M  Kn  M,  E,  C,  and  with  them 
their  kinswoman  Margaret  G,  whom  their  father  not  content  onely  to  have  them 
good  and  very  chaste,  would  also  they  should  be  well  learned,  supposing  that  by 
that  mean  they  should  be  more  truly  and  surely  chaste.  Wherein  neither  that 
great  wise  man  is  deceived,  nor  none  other  that  are  of  the  same  opinion. 

And  Hyrde,  the  translator  of  Vives,  was  himself  a  member  of 
More's  household.  He  it  is  that  introduces  Margaret  Roper's 
translation  of  Erasmus'  treatise  on  the  Lord's  Prayer,  with  a 
eulogy  in  favor  of  learning  for  women.  Like  Vives,  he  draws  his 
most  telling  argument  from  More's  family,  in  particular  from 
Margaret.^ 

Sauyng  that  I  will  be  content,  as  for  now,  with  one  example  of  our  own  country 
and  time  that  is:  this  gentlewoman,  which  translated  this  little  book,  hereafter 
following:  whose  virtuous  conversation,  living,  and  sad  demeanour  may  be  proof 
evident  enough  what  good  learning  doth,  where  it  is  surely  rooted:  of  whom  other 
women  may  take  example  of  prudent,  humble  and  wifely  behaviour,  charitable 
and  very  Christian  virtue,  with  which  she  hath,  with  God's  help,  endeavoured 
herself,  no  less  to  garnish  her  soul  than  it  liked  his  goodness,  with  lovely  beauty 
and  comeliness,  to  garnish  and  set  out  her  body:  and  undoubted  is  it  that  to  the 
increase  of  her  virtue,  she  hath  taken  and  taketh  no  little  occasion  of  her  learning, 
besides  her  other  manifold  and  great  commodities,  taken  of  the  same;  among 
which  commodities,  this  is  not  the  least,  that  with  her  virtuous,  worshipful,  wise 
and  well  learned  husband,  she  hath  by  the  occasion  of  her  learning  and  his  delight 
therein,  such  especial  comfort,  pleasure  and  pastime,  as  were  not  well  possible 
for  one  unlearned  couple,  either  to  take  together,  or  to  conceive  in  their  minds, 
what  pleasure  is  therein. 

In  fact,  although  naturally  there  were  other  women  equally  learned 
and  equally  virtuous,  More's  family  seems  to  have  been  accepted 
as  a  sort  of  standard  since  in  1550  we  find  Ascham  writing.' 

^  Watson,  op.  cU.,  53.  With  the  names  inserted  the  passage  reads  "  the  daugh- 
ters of  Sir  Thomas  More  Knight  Margaret,  Elizabeth,  Cecelia,  and  with  them 
their  kinswoman  Margaret  Giggs." 

*  Watson,  op.  cit.,  167-168. 

'  Giles,  edition  of  Ascham,  ov.  cit.,  i,  Ixii. 


HUMANISM  339 

There  are  many  honourable  ladies  now  who  surpass  Thomas  More's  daughters 
in  all  kinds  of  learning. 

Just  as  More  himself  by  the  accidents  of  his  life  and  his  spectacular 
death  became  the  typical  English  humanist,  so  his  family  also, 
partly  from  the  fact  that  it  was  his  family,  became  the  type  of 
English  humanism.  However  cultivated  and  charming  was 
Margaret  Roper, — and  More's  letters  to  her  show  very  real  love 
and  very  real  pride, — ^her  claim  to  fame,  then  as  now,  was  that 
she  was  the  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  More. 

The  probability  that  this  feeling  that  More's  family  typified 
what  might  be  accomplished  by  humanistic  education  was  due 
rather  to  priority  of  time  and  accidents  of  fortune  is  strengthened 
by  a  consideration  of  the  growth  of  the  movement.  With  the 
next  generation  learning  had  become  a  fashion  among  women. 
To  read  Latin  and  Greek  was  apparently  a  polite  accomplishment; 
knowledge  of  the  classics  was  careful  and  genuine  among  the  high- 
bom  ladies  of  the  English  court.  Ascham's  account  of  finding 
Lady  Jane  Grey  immersed  in  Plato,  while  the  rest  of  the  company 
were  out  hunting,  is  too  well  known  for  quotation.  It  is  so  well 
known,  however,  that  the  implication  seems  to  be  that  Lady  Jane 
was  peculiar.  Actually  the  same  condition  was  true  of  many  of 
the  Court  circle.  Ballard  in  his  Memoirs  of  several  Ladies  of  Great 
Britain  who  have  been  celebrated  for  their  writings  or  skill  in  the 
learned  languages,  arts  and  sciences  gives  a  curious  list  of  twenty- 
four  noblewomen,  from  Queen  Katharine  of  Aragon  to  Queen 
Elizabeth,  that  had  distinguished  themselves  in  their  studies. 
Four  of  them,  Katharine  of  Aragon,  Lady  Jane  Grey,  Mary  Tudor, 
and  Elizabeth  were  by  position  the  highest  in  the  realm.  In  an 
age  of  caste,  when  personality  is  valued  according  to  social  position, 
to  have  learning  in  the  high  places  had  a  direct  effect  upon  litera- 
ture. Particularly  is  this  true  of  the  last  named.  As  it  was 
Elizabeth's  destiny  to  give  her  name  to  a  literary  epoch,  Ascham's 
letter  to  Sturm  (1550)  in  which  he  describes  her  education  becomes 
a  literary  document.  After  the  remark  just  quoted,  concerning 
the  daughters  of  Thomas  More,  he  continues : 

.  .  .  but  among  all  of  them  the  brightest  star  is  my  illustrious  Lady  Elizabeth, 
the  king's  sister;  so  that  I  have  no  difBcully  in  finding  subject  for  writing  in  her 
praise,  but  only  in  setting  bounds  to  what  I  write.     I  will  write  nothing  however 


840  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

which  I  have  not  myself  witnessed.  She  had  me  for  her  tutor  in  Greek  and  Latin 
two  years;  but  now  I  am  released  from  the  Court  and  restored  to  my  old  literary 
leisure  here,  where  by  her  beneficence  I  hold  an  honest  place  in  this  University. 
It  is  diflBcult  to  say  whether  the  gifts  of  nature  or  of  fortune  are  most  to  be  admired 
in  that  illustrious  lady.  The  praise  which  Aristotle  gives  wholly  centres  in  her — 
beauty,  stature,  prudence,  and  industry.  She  has  just  passed  her  sixteenth 
birthday,  and  shows  such  dignity  and  gentleness  as  are  wonderful  at  her  age  and 
in  her  rank.  Her  study  of  true  religion  and  learning  is  most  energetic.  Her 
mind  has  no  womanly  weakness,  her  perseverance  is  equal  to  that  of  a  man,  and 
her  memory  long  keeps  what  it  quickly  picks  up.  She  talks  French  and  Italian 
as  well  as  English:  she  has  often  talked  to  me  readily  and  well  in  Latin,  and  moder- 
ately so  in  Greek.  WTien  she  writes  Greek  and  Latin,  nothing  is  more  beautiful 
than  her  hand-writing. ^  She  is  as  much  delighted  with  music  as  she  is  skilful 
in  the  art.  In  adornment  she  is  elegant  rather  than  showy,  and  by  her  con- 
tempt of  gold  and  head-dresses,  she  reminds  one  of  Hippolyte  rather  than  of  Phaedra. 
She  read  with  me  almost  all  Cicero,  and  great  part  of  Titus  Livius;  for  she  drew 
all  her  knowledge  of  Latin  from  those  two  authors.  She  used  to  give  the  morning 
of  the  day  to  the  Greek  Testament,  and  afterwards  read  select  orations  of  Isoc- 
rates  and  the  tragedies  of  Sophocles.  For  I  thought  that  from  those  sources 
she  might  gain  purity  of  style,  and  her  mind  derive  instruction  that  would  be  of 
value  to  her  to  meet  every  contingency  of  life.  To  these  I  added  Saint  Cyprian 
and  Melanchthon's  Common  Places,  &c.,  as  best  suited,  after  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
to  teach  her  the  foundations  of  religion,  together  with  elegant  language  and  sound 
doctrine.  Whatever  she  reads  she  at  once  perceives  any  word  that  has  a  doubt- 
ful or  curious  meaning.  She  cannot  endure  those  foolish  imitators  of  Erasmus, 
who  have  tied  up  the  Latin  tongue  in  those  wretched  fetters  of  proverbs.  She 
likes  a  style  that  grows  out  of  the  subject;  chaste  because  it  is  suitable,  and  beauti- 
ful because  it  is  clear.  She  very  much  admires  modest  metaphors,  and  com- 
parisons of  contraries  well  put  together  and  contrasting  felicitously  with  one  an- 
other.* Her  ears  are  so  well  practised  in  discriminating  all  these  things,  and 
her  judgment  is  so  good,  that  in  all  Greek,  Latin,  and  English  composition,  there 
is  nothing  so  loose  on  the  one  hand  or  so  concise  on  the  other,  which  she  does  not 
immediately  attend  to,  and  either  reject  with  disgust  or  receive  with  pleasure, 
as  the  case  may  be.     I  am  not  inventing  anything  my  dear  Sturm;  it  is  all  true. 

It  may  be  granted  that  it  is  always  easy  to  see  excellence  in 
princes  and  that  Ascham's  eyes  were  peculiarly  keen,  when  the 

^  For  the  American  reader  the  most  accessible  method  of  comparing  Elizabeth's 
handwriting  with  that  of  her  contemporaries  is  by  the  holograph  facsimiles  in 
the  International  Manuscripts.  The  letter  of  Elizabeth  is  in  English  and  dated 
1603.  For  Ascham's  reputation  as  a  judge  of  chirography  it  is  to  be  devoutly 
hoped  that  her  skill  had  degenerated  in  her  old  age,  since  the  specimen  there, 
compares  most  unfavorably  with  that  of  Lady  Jane  Grey. 

*0n  reading  this,  the  modem  student  instinctively  remembers  the  style  of 
Lyly  and  wonders  whether  this  may  not  be  part  explanation  of  its  origin  and  also 
of  its  popularity. 


HUMANISM  341 

princess  was  also  of  the  true  religion,  and  even  that  the  Queen  did 
not  show  a  particularly  Hippolyte-like  contempt  for  head-dresses, 
yet  his  facts,  as  contrasted  with  his  impressions,  show  that  in  two 
years  she  had  done  a  very  fair  amount  of  heavy  reading,  much  more 
than  is  required  for  college  entrance  today.  Although  the  intel- 
lectual productivity  of  any  epoch  is  governed  by  forces  far  beyond 
the  control  of  any  one  individual,  yet  at  the  time  when  the  human 
mind  was  almost  at  its  highest  creative  point,  the  character  of  its 
literary  output  was  influenced  by  the  preference  of  Elizabeth.  To 
a  degree,  the  extent  of  which  it  is  difficult  for  the  modem  reader 
to  realize,  her  favor  was  synonymous  with  fortune  and  reputation. 
To  the  public  of  her  day  she  was  the  court  of  last  appeal,  and  the 
critic  whose  judgment  was  final.  We  are  apt  to  forget  that  Spenser 
wrote  personally  for  the  Queen,  that  his  phrases  were  formed  for 
her  immediate  eye,  and  that  his  fortune  lay  in  her  approval.  That 
her  training,  founded  upon  the  great  classic  tradition,  had  been 
such  that  she  could  discriminate,  made  for  the  glory  of  English 
literature.  Therefore,  not  the  least  of  the  many  results  of  the 
humanistic  theory  was  that  in  Elizabeth  and  the  women  of  her 
Court  may  be  found  the  inspiration  of  Elizabethan  literature. 

Thus,  although  it  may  be  granted  that,  to  the  casual  reader, 
such  writers,  as  Vives,  Elyot,  or  Ascham,  are  tiresome,  it  must  also 
be  granted,  I  think,  that  they  are  important.  Actually,  the  very 
fact  that  they  are  tiresome  is  merely  another  way  of  stating  their 
importance,  since  it  is  a  confession  that  we  have  so  assimilated 
their  thoughts  that  we  find  little  new.  The  quaintness,  such  as 
there  is,  is  largely  a  matter  of  expression.  Usually  we  find  only  our 
own  ideas  poorly  developed  and  badly  phrased.  But  this  is  the 
fate  of  all  great  innovators.  To  borrow  an  illustration  from  another 
field,  Adam  Smith's  Wealth  of  Nations,  I  suppose,  marks  an  epoch 
in  the  study  of  economics;  yet  to  the  modern  economist  there  is 
little  but  historic  interest  in  the  book.  So  also  with  the  three 
writers  we  have  been  considering.  Vives  is  scarcely  a  name  even 
to  the  specialist.    Of  Elyot,  Hallara  remarks  ^ 

He  seema  worthy,  upon  the  whole,  on  account  of  the  solidity  of  his  reflections,  to 
hold  a  higher  place  than  Ascham,  to  whom,  in  some  respects,  he  bears  a  good  deal 
of  reaemblanoe. 

But  if  the  "higher  place"  is  dependent  upon  interest,  no  judgment 

'  Literature  of  Europe,  4th  ed.,  i.  400. 


342  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

could  be  more  unfortunate.  The  solidity  of  his  reflections  is 
now  necessarily  commonplace,  whereas  Ascham  by  the  vivacity  of 
his  personality,  his  diatribes  against  Italy,  his  enthusiasm  for  the 
Protestant  religion  is  always  sure  of  a  certain  number  of  readers. 
He  is  so  sure  of  his  outrageous  opinions  that  we  forgive  him  for 
being  very  often  right!  Of  course,  the  real  reason  is  that,  whereas 
in  Elyot  the  combination  of  elements  has  not  yet  been  perfectly 
assimilated,  in  Ascham,  the  next  generation  had  fused  and  made 
those  thoughts  its  own.  And  consequently  the  personality  of  the 
writer  has  free  play.  Ascham  is  saved  both  by  his  likes  and  his 
prejudices,  and,  while  the  Scholemaster  is  no  longer  accepted  as  a 
standard  of  pedagogy,  it  is  read  for  a  vivid  and  entertaining  pre- 
sentation of  certain  points  of  view.  As  such,  it  has  maintained  its 
position  as  an  exposition  of  the  theory  of  the  humanists. 

But  the  eflFect  of  humanism  was  not  limited  to  the  production 
of  poems  in  Latin,  intellectual  stimulation,  or  educational  theory. 
In  fact,  the  natural  result  of  all  these  three  combined  would  be 
shown  in  the  output  of  English  verse.  Contact  with  the  great 
classical  literature  would  breed  emulation,  and,  in  English  dress, 
humanism  would  appear  either  in  the  point  of  view  or  in  the  form 
of  the  poem.  Here,  however,  we  are  confronted  by  a  curious  lack 
of  data.  Puttenham  tells  us :  "  In  the  latter  end  of  the  same  kings 
raigne  sprong  vp  a  new  company  of  courtly  makers.  ..."  ^  but 
of  those  courtly  makers  we  have  almost  no  evidence.  A  priori 
we  might  have  deduced  their  existence.  In  the  elaborate  court 
life  of  a  king  with  the  cultivation  of  Henry  VIII,  the  existence  of 
such  a  company  would  be  posited.  But  also,  as  such  pieces  would 
be  written  for  the  immediate  circle,  and  as  the  approval  sought 
would  be  that  of  the  king  and  his  friends,  the  author  had  nothing  to 
gain  by  publication.  Autograph  and  manuscript  copies  would  suf- 
fice for  the  limited  circulation  desired.  That  such  was  the  situation 
is  the  complaint  of  Puttenham.  He  has  been  discussing  why  poetry 
was  at  so  low  an  ebb.  One  of  the  reasons  is  that  the  art  is  not 
suflSciently  recompensed  by  princes.  Consequently,  as  there  is  no 
reward,  even  those  who  write  do  not  publish:  ^ 

"Now  also  of  such  among  the  Nobilitie  or  gentrie  as  be  very  well  seene  in  many 
laudable  sciences,  and  especially  in  making  or  Poesie,  it  is  so  come  to  passe  that  they 

^  Arber's  Reprints,  The  Arte  of  English  Poesie,  74. 
*  Puttenham,  Arber's  Reprints,  p.  37. 


HUMANISM  848 

haue  no  courage  to  write  and  if  they  haue,  yet  are  they  loath  to  be  a  knowen  of  their 
skill.  So  as  I  know  very  many  notable  Gentlemen  in  the  Court  that  haue  written 
commendably  and  suppressed  it  agayne,  or  els  suffred  it  to  be  publisht  without 
their  owne  names  to  it:  as  if  it  were  a  discredit  for  a  Gentleman,  to  seeme  learned, 
and  to  shew  him  selfe  amorous  of  any  good  Art." 

Thus  it  is  only  by  accident  that  any  of  the  court  poetry  has  come 
down  to  us.  That  some  has  come  down  is  due  to  the  custom  that, 
when  a  man  heard  or  read  a  poem  that  pleased  him,  he  copied  it 
into  his  commonplace  book,  each  person  forming,  as  it  were,  his 
own  anthology.  Two  such  collections  are  those  published  by 
Fliigel,^  one  of  which,  the  Royal  MS.,  was  originally  in  the  j>os- 
session  of  Henry  VIII.  Still  another  is  that  possessed  presumably 
by  Surrey  and  the  Howard  family.^  And  scattered  through  the 
British  Museum  and  manuscript  books  in  private  hands  there  are 
still  in  existence  a  goodly  number  of  unprinted  verses  of  this  time. 
Yet  the  very  fact  that  they  have  never  been  printed,  that  their 
circulation  must  have  been  limited  to  from  hand  to  hand,  explains 
the  unique  importance  attaching  to  the  collection  about  to  be  con- 
sidered, commonly  known  from  the  name  of  the  publisher  as  TotteVs 
Miscellany.  This  importance  is  due,  not  only  to  the  fact  that 
it  is  the  first  published  anthology  in  English,^  nor  that  the  poems 
contained  in  it  are  in  themselves  excellent,  but,  from  the  very  fact 
of  its  having  been  the  only  printed  collection,  it  is  the  gateway 
through  which  the  courtly  poetry  of  Henry  VIII  passed  on  to  the 
Elizabethans.  However  faulty  may  be  the  text,  uncritical  the 
selections,  and  casual  the  arrangement,  yet  necessarily  the  earlier 
writers  were  known  almost  entirely  from  its  pages.  By  1557 
Richard  Tottel,  then  in  the  fourth  year  of  his  business,  had  issued 
eighteen  books.  These  may  be  divided  into  law  books,  humanistic 
books,  and  books  dealing  with  English  literature.  He  had  already 
issued  More's  Dialogue  of  Comfort,  Lydgate's  Fall  of  Princes,  and 
Hawes'  Pastime  of  Pleasure.  It  was,  therefore,  quite  in  accord 
with  his  policy  to  bring  out  a  collection  of  the  poetry  of  the  last 
generation.  On  June  5th,  as  the  eighteenth  book  from  his  press, 
this  was  issued  with  the  title:  Songes  and  Sonettes,  vmiien  by  the 

»  Anulia,  12,  223. 

«  A.  K.  FoxweU,  Study  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  125-1S5. 

*  It  may  be  objected  that  the  1532  Chaucer  is  really  an  anthology,  although 
that  15  scarcely  its  object. 


844  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

ryghi  honorable  Lorde  Henry  Haward  late  Earle  of  Surrey,  and  other. 
There  is  but  one  known  copy  of  this.  Of  the  271  poems  included, 
forty  were  by  Surrey,  ninety-six  by  Wyatt,  forty  by  Nicholas  Grim- 
aid,  and  ninety-five  by  "uncertain  auctours. "  But  the  very  strik- 
ing feature  is  that  by  July  31st,  fifty-six  days  only  after  he  had  fin- 
ished printing  the  first  edition,  a  second  appeared  from  which  thirty 
of  the  forty  poems  by  Grimald  disappeared,  their  places  being  sup- 
plied by  thirty-nine  new  poems  given  to  the  "uncertain  auctours. " 
Of  this  edition  there  are  but  two  copies  known,  and  textually  they 
do  not  agree!  Apparently  at  once  after  finishing  setting  the  type 
for  the  first  edition,  at  full  speed  he  remodelled  it,  working  so 
rapidly  that  he  changed  readings,  even  as  the  second  edition  was 
passing  through  the  press.  And  between  these  two  editions,  on 
June  21st,  he  had  published  Surrey's  translation  of  the  Second  and 
Fourth  Books  of  the  Mneid.  These  are  the  facts.  To  explain 
them,  each  is  at  liberty  to  construct  his  own  hypothesis.^  As  we 
have  Wyatt's  autograph  manuscript,^  we  know  that  Tottel  had 
neither  a  complete  collection  of  Wyatt's  poems,  nor  a  correct  text. 
The  presumption  is,  therefore,  that  Tottel's  authority  is  one  of  the 
commonplace  books,  and  that  the  second  edition  is  due  to  an- 
other commonplace  book,  which,  for  some  unknown  reason,  he 
preferred.  In  any  case  this  double-barrelled  arrangement  gives 
us  310  poems  from  which  to  judge  the  court  poetry  of  the  age. 

These  poems  fall  into  four  parts,  corresponding  to  their  authors. 
As  Surrey  will  be  discussed  later,  ^  the  present  concern  is  with 
Wyatt.  His  poems  fill  the  bulk  of  the  collection,  being  more  nu- 
merous than  the  poems  of  any  other  two  combined.  As  he  was  a 
Cambridge  man  with  two  academic  degrees,  it  is  natural  to  look 
for  strong  humanistic  influence  in  his  work,  and,  as  he  imitates 
very  closely,  there  should  be  little  doubt  in  determining  the 
amount  of  it.  The  amount  is  unexpectedly  small.  Of  the  ninety- 
six  poems,  there  are  but  two  eight-fine  epigrams  imitated  from 
Ausonius  and  the  Renaissance  humanist  Pandulpho  respectively, 

^  Arber  reasons  that  Grimald  must  have  been  the  editor  because  he  had  had 
Tottel  publish  his  translation  from  Cicero  four  years  before,  and  because  they  are 
his  poems  that  are  dropped.  It  is  a  testimony  to  Professor  Arber's  estimate  of  the 
modesty  of  the  average  editor. 

*  Egerton  MS.  2711  British  Museum. 

*  Surrey's  use  of  blank  verse  is  discussed  later  in  this  same  chapter;  his  general 
humanism  in  Chapter  VI. 


HUMANISM  345 

and  two  satires  freely  taken  from  Horace.^  And  as  in  these  last 
he  has  adopted  the  ItaUan  verse  form,  the  terza  rima,  the  infer- 
ence is  that  even  here  he  is  following  Italian  precedent.  If  Wyatt's 
work  be  at  all  a  fair  sample  of  the  court  poetry,  the  possibility  of 
finding  humanism  there,  as  an  energizing  force,  may  safely  be 
abandoned. 

That  Wyatt's  verse  is  not  a  fair  sample,  however,  is  evident  not 
only  from  the  obvious  humanism  in  Surrey,  but  also  from  the  work 
of  the  "Uncertain  Auctours."  Under  this  caption  are  included 
one  hundred  and  thirty-four  pieces,  of  all  sorts  and  kinds.  From 
allusions  two  poems  have  been  attributed  to  Thomas,  Lord  Vaux, 
and  one  to  Heywood.  Actually,  however,  from  other  allusions,  un- 
fortunately less  definite,  we  know  that  Bryan,  Rochford,  Church- 
yard, Cornysshe,  and  WilUam  Grey  wrote  verses  and  probably 
had  a  share  in  the  miscellany.  In  spite  of  Warton's  remark,"  From 
palpable  coincidences  of  style,  subject,  and  other  circumstances, 
a  slender  share  of  critical  sagacity  is  sufficient  to  point  out  many 
others, "  the  identification  has  never  been  made;  ^  nor  does  it  seem 
a  very  hopeful  undertaking  when  so  many  of  the  names  signed  to 
the  pieces  in  the  Royal  MS.  are  of  persons  otherwise  unknown; 
nor  can  the  question  of  the  dating  be  more  definitely  settled.  The 
date  of  publication  is  of  course  no  guide,  since  in  1557  Wyatt  had 
been  dead  fifteen  years  and  Surrey  ten.  Still  more,  the  collection 
includes  some  of  Wyatt's  earliest  verse.  On  the  other  hand,  Vaux's 
poem  /  lothe  thai  I  did  love  is  headed  in  a  manuscript  in  the  Brit- 
ish Museum  as  "in  the  time  of  the  noble  Queen  Mary. "  ^  The  as- 
sumption is  that  the  hypothetical  commonplace  book  received 
entries  for  nearly  half  a  century.  If  this  is  true,  then,  since  the 
possible  known  contributors  are  all  connected  with  the  court,  it 
may  be  accepted  as  a  compendium  of  typical  court  poetry. 

If  the  miscellany  is  typical,  it  cannot  be  said  that  many  of  the 
courtiers  were  strongly  gifted  poetically.  The  level  of  achieve- 
ment is  low.  The  only  one  that  has  survived  to  our  time  is  that 
by  Lord  Vaux,  and  by  the  fact  that  in  a  garbled  form  it  is  sung 
by  the  grave-digger  in  Hamlet.  For  the  modern  reader,  the  only 
interest  is  to  be  found  in  the  testimony  that  it  bears  to  the  literary 

'  This  indebtedness  was  originally  pointed  out,  I  think,  by  Warton  and  Nott. 
»  Warton.  1871,  iv,  59. 
»  Warton,  ed.  1871,  iv,  5». 


346  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

tendencies  of  the  time.  Of  these  it  is  at  once  evident  that  human- 
ism is  not  the  least.  Allusions  to  classical  stories,  to  Troy,  to 
Ulysses,  to  the  various  loves  of  the  gods,  presuppose  an  audience 
familiar  with  classical  learning.  Occasionally  there  is  transla- 
tion. In  the  Epistle  of  Penelope  to  Ulysses  Ovid  is  said  to  make 
his  first  appearance  in  English  verse. ^  But  the  favorite  author 
is  Horace.  As  Nott  notes,^  there  are  three  distinct  renderings  of 
the  Tenth  Ode  of  the  Second  Book.^  The  Seventh  Ode  of  the 
Fourth  Book  appears  under  the  caption,  All  worldly  pleasures 
fade.^  As  an  illustration  of  the  sea-change  in  Horace  the  com- 
parison between  the  Latin  and  the  English  is  valuable. 

Diffugere  nives,  redeunt  iam  gramina  campis 

arboribusque  comae; 
mutat  terra  vices  et  decrescentia  ripas 

flumina  praetereunt; 
Gratia  cum  Nymphis  geminisque  sororibus  audet 

ducere  nuda  chores. 
Immortalia  ne  speres,  monet  annus  et  almum 

quae  rapit  hora  diem: 
frigora  mitescunt  Zephyris,  ver  proterit  aetas, 

interitura  simul 
pomifer  autumnus  fruges  effuderit,  et  mox 

bruma  recurrit  iners. 
Damna  tamen  celeres  reparant  caelestia  lunae: 

nos  ubi  decidimus 
quo  pater  Aeneas,  quo  TuUus  dives  et  Ancus, 

pulvis  et  umbra  sumus. 
Quis  scit  an  adiciant  hodiemae  crastina  summae 

tempora  di  superi? 
Cuncta  manus  avidas  f  ugient  heredis,  amico 

quae  dederis  animo. 
Cum  semel  occideris  et  de  te  splendida  Minos 

fecerit  arbitria, 
non,  Torquate,  genus,  non  te  facundia,  non  te 

restituet  pietas. 
Infernis  neque  enim  tenebris  Diana  pudicum 

liberat  Hippolytum, 
nee  Lethaea  valet  Theseus  abrumpere  caro 

vincula  Pirithoo. 

1  Warton,  ed.  1871,  iv,  65. 
«  Nott,  Works  of  Surrey,  1815,  329. 

*  As  one  of  the  versions  is  by  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  a  consideration  of  the  three  is 
reserved  for  Chap.  VI,  page  526.  *  Arber's  reprint  of  Tottel,  160. 


HUMANISM  347 


The  winter  with  his  griesly  stormes  no  lenger  dare  abyde. 

The  trees  haue  leues,  ye  bowes  don  spred,  new  changed  is  the  yere. 

The  plesaat  grasse,  with  lusty  grene,  the  earth  hath  newly  dyde. 

The  water  brokes  are  cleane  sonke  down,  the  pleasant  bankes  apere 

The  spring  is  come,  the  goodly  nimphes  now  daunce  in  euery  place 

Thus  hath  the  yere  most  plesantly  of  late  ychangde  his  face. 

Hope  for  no  immortalitie,  for  welth  will  weare  away. 

As  we  may  leame  by  euery  yere,  yea  howres  of  euery  day. 

For  Zepharus  doth  mollifye  the  colde  and  blustering  windes: 

The  somers  drought  doth  take  away  ye  spring  out  of  our  minds. 

And  yet  the  somer  cannot  last,  but  once  must  step  asyde. 

Then  Autumn  thinkes  to  kepe  hys  place,  but  Autumn  cannot  bide. 

For  when  he  hath  brought  furth  his  fruits  and  stuft  ye  bams  with  com. 

The  winter  eates  and  empties  all,  and  thus  is  Autumn  wome: 

Then  hory  frostes  possesse  the  place,  then  tempestes  work  much  harm. 

Then  rage  of  stormes  done  make  all  colde  which  somer  had  made  so  warm 

Wherfore  let  no  man  put  his  trust  in  that,  that  will  decay. 

For  slipper  welth  will  not  continue,  plesure  will  weare  away. 

For  when  that  we  haue  lost  our  lyfe,  and  lye  vnder  a  stone. 

What  are  we  then,  we  are  but  earth,  then  is  our  pleasure  gon. 

No  man  can  tell  what  god  almight  of  euery  wight  doth  cast. 

No  man  can  say  to  day  I  Hue,  till  mome  my  lyfe  shall  last. 

For  when  thou  shall  before  thy  iudge  stand  to  receiue  thy  dome. 

What  sentence  Minos  dothe  pronounce  that  must  of  thee  become. 

Then  shall  not  noble  stock  and  blud  redeme  the  from  his  handes. 

Nor  surged  talke  with  eloquence  shal  lowse  thee  from  his  bandes. 

Nor  yet  thy  lyfe  vprightly  lead,  can  help  thee  out  of  hell. 

For  who  descendeth  downe  so  depe,  must  there  abyde  and  dwell. 

Diana  could  not  thence  deliuer  chaste  Hypolitus, 

Nor  Theseus  could  not  call  to  life  his  frende  Periothous. 

It  is  clear  at  once  that  in  form  the  EngHsh  is  much  longer  than 
the  Latin,  not  only  in  the  number  of  the  lines,  but,  in  addition,  in 
the  number  of  words  to  each  line.  With  the  brevity  goes  also  the 
elegance  of  Horace.  The  attempt  has  been  made  to  render  the 
First  Archilochian  Strophe  by  a  quatrain  of  seven-line  verses; 
even  this  breaks  down  and  the  poem  continues  in  couplets.  As 
the  caesura  is  usually  placed  after  the  fourth  foot,  each  line  sepa- 
rates into  two.  If  each  couplet  were  printed  as  a  quatrain,  fours 
and  threes,  with  alternate  rimes,  the  result  would  be  familiar  as 
the  common  hymn  measure.  And  the  same  criticism  would  apply 
here  as  there,  namely,  that  the  intensity  of  the  accent  renders  the 
effect  sing-song.     It  is  a  form  almost  ideally  unsuited  to  reproduce 


848  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  delicacy  of  Horace.  In  content,  at  first  glance  it  seems  almost 
literal  translation.  On  second  inspection,  the  definitely  classical 
touches  have  been  removed  and  the  typically  Christian  points 
emphasized.  By  this  slight  shifting  of  the  stress,  Horace's  gentle 
admonition  to  live  while  yet  we  may  has  been  changed  into  a 
monody  on  the  imminence  of  death.  Even  the  Calvinistic  doc- 
trine of  predestination  finds  expression  in  the  final  word  of  the  line. 

Nor  yet  thy  lyfe  vprightly  lead,  can  help  thee  out  of  hell. 

The  total  result  is  that  in  both  form  and  content  the  English  ver- 
sion is  unlike  the  Latin  original. 

This  single  example  would  be  of  slight  significance,  were  it  not 
that  it  is  typical  of  the  appeal  made  by  Horace  to  the  Englishmen 
of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century.  It  is  not  the  fiery  Catul- 
lus, but  the  philosophical  Horace  that  is  chosen  as  the  exemplar; 
it  is  not  even  Horace  in  his  lighter,  lyric,  and  erotic  moods, — it 
is  the  Horace  singing  the  shortness  of  life  and  the  coming  of  death. 
That  this  is  not  the  classical  Horace  needs  not  to  be  argued;  it 
is  the  Horace  that  they  wished  to  see.^  Particularly  is  this  true  of 
his  doctrine  of  the  "golden  mean, "  that  happiness  lies  in  the  avoid- 
ance of  extremes.  Among  the  pieces  of  the  uncertain  authors 
there  are  three  poems  on  this  thought.^  Although  not  identical, 
in  each  there  is  the  same  trend  of  thought,  that  riches  do  not  bring 
contentment,  nor  power  pleasure,  nor  hopes  fulfillment,  nor  am- 
bition ease.  But  none  of  these  three  poems,  however  much  they 
may  suggest  portions  of  Horace,  is  taken  from  his  odes.  Appar- 
ently the  conditions  of  the  age  were  such  as  to  make  these  re- 
flections congenial,  and,  imless  by  chance  the  three  are  by  one 
common  author,  ideas  like  these  must  have  been  not  unusual.  Such 
a  point  of  view  must  have  been  engendered  by  the  tragedies  of  the 
times.  As  the  aim  of  the  early  Tudor  kings  was  to  exalt  the  power 
of  the  crown,  to  be  high  in  place  was  in  itself  a  dangerous  position, 
and  precedence  was  a  doubtful  prerogative.  Buckingham,  Wol- 
sey.  More,  Cromwell, — illustrations  come  easy  to  hand,^  even  the 

1  Cf.  page  261-2. 

*  They  of  the  meane  estate  are  happiest,  129;  The  meane  estate  is  best,  154;  The  pore 
estate  is  to  be  holden  for  best,  164. 

'  Cf.  page  29,  where  the  fates  of  those  attending  the  baptism  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
are  given. 


HUMANISM  849 

Earl  of  Surrey,  the  poet  of  the  age,  is  executed  for  the  crime  of 
having  royal  blood  in  his  veins.  Thus  the  most  casual  considera- 
tion of  the  noble  tragedies  of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century 
would  lead  to  an  appreciation  of  the  blessings  of  social  mediocrity. 
This  opinion  finds  an  apt  illustration  in  the  third  of  the  poems  men- 
tioned. 

E  xperience  now  doth  shew  what  God  vs  taught  before, 

D  esired  ponipe  is  vaine,  and  seldome  dothe  it  last: 

W  ho  climbes  to  raigne  with  kinges,  may  rue  his  fate  full  sore. 

A  las  the  wofull  ende  that  comes  with  care  full  fast, 

R  elect  him  dothe  renowne  his  pompe  full  lowe  is  caste. 

D  eceiued  is  the  birde  by  swetenesse  of  the  call 

E  xpell  that  pleasant  taste,  wherein  is  bitter  gall. 

S  uch  as  with  oten  cakes  is  pore  estate  abides, 

O  f  care  haue  they  no  cure,  the  crab  with  mirth  they  rost, 

M  ore  ease  fele  they  then  those,  that  from  their  height  downe  slides 

E  xcesse  doth  brede  their  wo,  they  faile  in  scillas  cost, 

R  emainyng  in  the  stormes  till  shyp  and  all  be  lost. 

S  erue  God  therfore  thou  pore,  for  lo,  thou  Hues  in  rest, 

E  schue  the  golden  hall,  thy  thatched  house  is  besT. 

The  poem  contains  in  anagram  Edwarde  Somerset,  the  name  of 
the  author  according  to  Arber.^  Although  this  is  possible,  it  seems 
more  probable  that  the  poem  should  be  regarded  as  a  meditation 
upon  the  career  of  Edward,  first  Duke  of  Somerset.  Born  of  a 
knightly  but  not  highly  distinguished  family,  he  came  into  promi- 
nence by  the  marriage  of  his  sister  Jane  to  Henry  VIII.  Toward 
the  end  of  Henry's  life,  he  had  become  the  recognized  leader  of  the 
party  of  the  "new  men"  in  opposition  to  Norfolk,  whose  imprison- 
ment left  him  the  most  powerful  noble  in  the  kingdom.  By  the 
king's  will  he  became  one  of  the  executors,  then  Protector  of  the 
young  King,  and  finally  assumed  almost  royal  authority.     But 

Who  climbes  to  raigne  with  kinges,  may  rue  his  fate  full  sore, 

he  was  unable  to  control  the  turbulent  elements  among  the  nobles, 
and  he  was  brought  to  the  block  in  January  1552,  and  his  estates 

'  ToUd'a  Miscellany,  164.  This  suggestion  has  not  received  the  endorsement  of 
A.  F.  Pollard:  .  .  .  "and  his  (Somerset)  nearest  approach  to  an  artistic  accom- 
plishment was  his  gift  of  eloquence  and  mastery  of  good  English  prose."  England 
under  Protector  Somerset,  321. 


360  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

were  forfeited.  The  moral  of  his  career  would  be  that  "the  pore 
estate  is  to  be  holden  for  best. "  So  the  assimilation  of  one  phase 
of  Horace  was  complete.  These  poems  serve  to  illustrate,  also, 
both  how  much  the  English  poets  had  to  leam  and  where  they 
sought  to  leam  it.  We  are  so  familiar  with  the  oft-repeated  state- 
ment that  Petrarch  was  the  master  of  the  sixteenth-century  writers, 
that  we  tend  to  forget  that  he  was  not  the  only  master.  The 
school  in  which  they  studied  had  many  instructors,  not  the  least  of 
whom  were  the  classical  authors,  from  whom  Petrarch  also  had 
learned  his  art.  Therefore,  one  of  the  functions  of  humanism  was 
to  hold  up  poetic  ideals  to  the  new  age. 

But  among  the  contributors  to  the  Miscellany,  the  chief  rep- 
resentative of  humanism  is  not  Wyatt,  Surrey,  nor  any  one  of 
the  "Uncertain  Auctours";  it  is  Nicholas  Grimald.  According 
to  Bale,  he  was  the  author  of  twenty-nine  separate  works.  The 
uncritical  nature  of  Bale's  method  of  compilation  is  well  known. 
The  final  list  is  a  combination  of  various  different  lists  received 
from  friends.  It  represents  little  more  than  the  bibliographical 
gossip  of  the  time.  This  appears  in  his  note  book  where  the  per- 
sons giving  the  information  are  tabulated.^  The  interesting  fea- 
tiu-e  in  the  case  of  Grimald  is  that,  in  several  places,  he  seems  to 
have  supplied  Bale  with  first-hand  information.  Certainly,  then, 
the  greater  part  of  his  work  was  unprinted  and  is  lost.  In  fact, 
even  in  the  Miscellany  he  is  a  vanishing  quantity,  since  of  the  forty 
poems  in  the  first  edition,  signed  Nicholas  Grimald,  but  ten  re- 
main in  the  second  edition  with  the  abbreviated  signature  N.  G. 
But,  as  the  interval  between  these  two  editions  is  only  fifty-six 
days,  an  interval  too  short  to  allow  the  supposition  that  the  supply 
had  been  exhausted  by  any  normal  demand,  it  seems  rational  to 
infer  that  Grimald  had  become  'persona  non  grata.  The  explana- 
tion may  perhaps  be  found  in  the  tale  that  after  having  been  a 
protestant,  he  recanted  under  Mary,  "not  without  some  becking 
and  bowing  (alas)  of  his  knee  unto  Baal, "  ^  with  the  result  that 
it  was  feared  that  his  name  might  injure  the  sale  of  the  book.  This 
possible  hypothesis  is  somewhat  supported  by  the  fact  that  all 
of  his  poems  with  any  personal  allusion  are  carefully  removed  and 
for  his  name  the  unincriminating  initials  substituted.    Owing  to 

*  Index  BrilannuB  Scriptorum,  ed.  by  R.  L.  Poole,  Oxford,  1902. 

*  Ridley's  Works,  Parker  Society,  p.  391. 


HUMANISM  851 

this  suppression  in  the  second  and  all  subsequent  editions  Grimald 
was  almost  unknown  to  the  next  generation. 

The  various  problems  of  his  life  fortunately  do  not  concern  the 
literary  historian.  The  one  fact  that  needs  stress  here  is  that  he 
belongs  not  to  the  court,  but  to  the  university  circle.  He  was  a 
Cambridge  man,  taking  his  degree  there  in  1540.  Apparently 
there  he  made  sufficient  reputation  as  either  a  scholar,  or  a  writer, 
or  both,  that  Gilbert  Smith,  Archdeacon  of  Peterborough  lured 
him  to  Oxford.^  He  was  elected  probationer  fellow  of  Merton  in 
1541,  incorporated  B.  A.  in  1542,  M.  A.  in  1544,  and  "  1547,  when 
the  Coll.  of  King  Hen.  8  (Christ  Church)  was  to  be  settled  and 
replenished  with  Students,  he  was  put  in  there  as  a  Senior,  or  Theol- 
ogist,  (accounted  then  only  honorary)  and  the  rather  for  this  rea- 
son, because  he  about  that  time  did  read  a  public  Lecture  to  the 
Academians  in  the  large  refectory  of  that  place. "  "  Bale's  epithet 
"scholasticorum  sui  temporis  non  infimum  decus,"  '  is  certainly 
not  exaggerated. 

Naturally  the  mass  of  his  work,  to  judge  from  the  titles  given 
by  Bale,  is  purely  academic  in  its  nature.  He  translates  from  the 
Greek,  he  writes  songs  and  epigrams,  congratulatory  poems,  and 
familiar  epistles.  His  paraphrases  on  the  Georgics  have  come  down 
lo  us,  and  his  English  translation  of  the  De  Offidis  of  Cicero  (1553). 
More  interesting  are  his  "school  dramas"  the  Archipropheta  and 
the  Christus  Redivivus.  The  reason  for  the  dramatic  form  is  again 
scholastic*  It  is  an  extension  of  the  same  idea  embodied  in  Eras- 
mus' Colloquia.  At  a  time  when  it  was  essential  that  Latin  should 
be  learned  as  a  spoken  language,  the  Latin  play  developed  as  a 
pedagogic  device.  Consequently  not  only  were  Terence  and  Plau- 
tus  studied  and  performed,  but  even  modern  plays,  modelled  upon 
them,  were  written.  Thus  the  Christus  was  avowedly  modelled 
upon  Plautus  and  was  played  by  the  students  of  Merton  before 
the  townspeople.    Such  plays  are  purely  classical  in  form. 

Naturally,  in  the  fragment  of  his  verse  preser^'ed,  even  unwill- 

*  " .  .  .  uehcmeter  hortante  te  et  pecunias  ultxd  suppeditante.  ..."  Epistola 
Nunxpatoria  to  Christus  Redivivua. 

»  Wood.  Athen.  Ox.  i.  178. 

'  Bale,  Scriplorum  Brylannia,  1557,  p.  701. 

*  The  question  of  the  school  drama  is  discussed  by  James  L.  McConaughy,  The 
School  Drama  including  Palgraieea  Introduction  to  AcoUutut,  Columbia  University, 
1913. 


352  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

ingly,  by  Tottel,  the  humanistic  note  is  dominant.  His  allusions 
are  all  drawn  from  ancient  times.  Thus,  in  a  poem  on  the  not  un- 
common subject  of  friendship  be  bursts  forth: 

O  frendship,  flowr  of  flowrs:  O  liuely  sprite  of  life, 

O  sacred  bond  of  blissfull  peace,  the  stalworth  staunch  of  strife: 

Scipio  with  Lelius  didst  thou  conioyn  in  care. 

At  home,  in  warrs,  for  weal  and  wo,  with  egall  faith  to  fare. 

Gesippus  eke  with  Tite,  Damon  with  Pythias, 

And  with  Menclus  sonne  Achill,  by  thee  combined  was. 

Euryalus,  and  Nisxis  gaue  Virgil  cause  to  sing: 

Of  Pylades  doo  many  rymes,  and  of  Orestes  ring. 

Down  Theseus  went  to  hell,  Pirith,  his  frend  to  finde: 

O  yat  the  wiues,  in  these  our  dayes,  were  to  their  mates  so  kinde. 

Cicero,  the  frendly  man,  to  Atticus,  his  frend. 

Of  frendship  wrote  :  such  couples  lo  dothe  lott  but  seldom  lend. 

Even  when  he  tries  to  tell  of  his  grief  over  the  death  of  his  mother, 
he  becomes  involved  in  a  catalogue  of  classical  instances: 

Martius  to  vanguish  Rome,  was  set  on  fire: 

But  vanquisht  fell,  at  moothers  boon,  his  ire. 

Into  Hesperian  land  Sertorius  fled. 

Of  parent  aye  cheef  care  had  in  his  hed. 

Dear  weight  on  shoulders  Sicil  brethren  bore. 

While  Etnaes  gyant  spouted  flames  full  sore.  .  .  . 

There  are  eighteen  lines  of  this  to  reach  the  conclusion, 

And  should  not  I  expresse  my  inward  wo. 
When  you,  most  louyng  dam,  so  soon  hence  go! 

From  a  man  who  carries  such  a  load  of  learning  one  naturally  ex- 
pects a  poem  on  the  golden  mean,  and  his  is  adorned  by  illustra- 
tions from  Phaeton,  Julius  Caesar,  Nero,  Augustus,  Cato,  and 
Antonius.  The  names  of  the  old  gods  and  heroes  fall  trippingly 
from  his  pen  whether  he  be  in  love,  or  in  sorrow,  and  his  poems 
have  all  the  fire  of  a  classical  dictionary.  If  Tottel  had  not  added 
the  additional  poems  of  the  "Uncertain  Auctour,"  one  would  be 
tempted  to  explain  the  omission  of  three  quarters  of  Grimald's 
work  from  the  second  edition  as  being  merely  an  unexpected  mani- 
festation of  critical  good  sense. 

If  such  pedantry  were  all  that  humanism  meant  to  English 
poetry,  the  value  would  be  slight.  Pedants  we  have  always  with 
us  and  Gabriel  Harvey  in  the  next  age  could  have  suppUed  all 


HUMANISM  353 

that  was  then  essential.  But  not  only  were  these  men,  of  whom 
Grimald  is  an  extreme  example,  struggling  for  that  compression 
and  dignity  of  Latin  verse,  they  were  also  studying  its  form.  Not 
yet  does  one  find  the  elaborate,  and  sometimes  fantastic,  experi- 
ments in  English  verse  constructed  on  the  rules  of  Latin  prosody 
but  there  is  one  attempt  in  this  line  that  merits  more  than  passing 
notice.  There  are  three  possible  explanations  of  the  origin  of 
blank  verse.  First,  it  might  have  evolved  from  the  earlier  English 
verse  forms.  Blank  verse  is  Chaucer's  iambic  pentameter  "  riding 
rhyme"  without  the  rimes.  It  is  conceivable  that  in  some  manu- 
script the  scribe  by  changing  the  final  word  of  every  other  line  in 
some  passage  unconsciously  created  blank  verse.  If  this  were  done, 
and  if  it  could  be  shown  that  in  the  sixteenth  century  both  Grim- 
ald and  Surrey  knew  that  particular  manuscript,  the  explanation 
would  be  found.  As  no  such  manuscript  has  been  found,  this 
possibility  may  therefore  be  dismissed.  In  this  connection,  however, 
it  is  to  be  remarked  that,  as  Guest  showed  as  early  as  1838,  the  first 
part  of  the  Tale  of  Melibens,  although  stated  to  be  a  "  litel  thing 
in  prose,"  has  almost  the  cadence  of  blank  verse.  Obviously 
Chaucer,  in  attempting  to  write  prose,  carried  over  the  cadence 
of  the  heroic  couplet.  But  as  Chaucer  considered  the  passage 
to  be  prose,  and  as  it  was  printed  as  prose,  to  assume  that  the  Tudor 
men  realized  its  real  character  is  to  credit  them  with  superhuman 
critical  sagacity. 

The  second  possibiUty,  that  it  was  borrowed  consciously  from 
the  Italians,  is  the  explanation  usually  accepted.^  Before  1550 
both  Ruscellai  and  Trissino  had  used  it  for  drama;  and  Alamanni 
in  the  1532  edition  of  his  Opere  Toscane,  dedicated  to  Francis  I, 
had  employed  it  in  a  narrative  poem,  II  Dilvuvio  Romano.  More- 
over, both  Surrey  and  Alamanni  were  present  in  1532  at  the  meet- 
ing of  Henry  VIII  and  Francis  I.  The  assumption  is  that  Ala- 
manni then  incited  Surrey  to  make  analogous  experiments  in 
English.2 

'  "It  would,  of  course,  be  gratuitous  futility  to  argue  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
Surrey  did  not  take  this  pattern  also  from  the  Italians,  who  were  then  the  only 
nation  and  language  in  Europe  that  hud  made  considerable  attempts  at  it."  Saints- 
bury,  Hist,  of  English  Prosody,  i,  314. 

*  This  view  is  stated  most  clearly  in  The  French  Renaissance  in  England,  Sidney 
Lee,  1910,  pp.  11&-117. 


854  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

That  before  Surrey's  death  blank  verse  in  Italy  had  gone  be- 
yond the  experimental  stage,  is  not  open  to  question.  By  1515 
both  Trissino  and  Ruscellai  had  used  it  for  drama;  by  1520  Ala- 
manni  wrote  a  number  of  narratives  in  it;  ^  the  Api  of  Ruscellai 
in  blank  verse  was  published  in  1539;  and  in  1541  had  appeared 
a  translation  into  blank  verse  of  the  Second  Book  of  the  ^Eneid, 
under  the  name  of  the  Cardinal  Hippolito  de  Medici,  yet  contem- 
poraneously attributed  to  Molza.^  And  it  had  been  propounded 
as  a  theory  by  Felice  Figliucci,  who  illustrated  his  principles  by 
verses.^  What  concerns  us  here,  however,  is  not  so  much  the 
fact  as  the  motive.  This  was  due  to  humanism.  The  guiding 
principle  in  the  Poetica  (1529)  of  Trissino  is  that  modem  poetry 
should  become  natural  by  a  return  to  classical  models.  Thus  the 
Api  of  his  friend  Ruscellai  is  a  derivative  from  the  Georgics.  Still 
more  is  this  true  of  Alamanni,  who  has  curiously  enough  become 
the  protagonist  of  modern  theories.  Of  the  ten  elegies  in  the  First 
Book,  eight  are  translations  from  Theocritus  and  Bion.  More- 
over he  defends  this  use  of  blank  verse  by  an  appeal  to  the  classical 
usage.  ^  In  Italy,  then,  blank  verse  originated  in  the  desire  to 
approach  more  nearly  the  system  of  classical  versification,  starting 
naturally  with  translations  from  classical  authors  and  extend- 
ing into  other  matters,  such  as  II  Diluvio  Romano.  The  trans- 
lation into  versi  scolti  of  the  Second  Book  of  the  ^neid  is  perfectly 
normal.  Therefore,  to  insist  upon  the  Italian  origin  of  English 
blank  verse  is  merely  to  remove  humanism  one  degree. 

There  are  two  diflSculties,  however,  with  that  hypothesis.  The 
first  is  that  there  is  no  connection  shown  between  Surrey  and  the 
Italian  humanists,  except  that  in  1532  both  he  and  Alamanni  were 
present  at  a  court  function  in  France.  Surrey  was  at  that  time 
a  young  man  of  about  fifteen  or  sixteen.  Alamanni  was  thirty- 
seven  years  old.    While,  even  in  that  age  of  caste,  it  is  not  im- 

^  This  dating  is  taken  from  Luigt  Alamanni,  sa  vie  et  son  oeuvre,  by  Henri  Hau- 
vette,  Paris,  1903,  p.  218. 

*  Ortensio  Lando,  Paradossi,  Paradox  23. 

'  I  know  this  only  from  Warton.  Tiraboschi  scarcely  mentions  him.  (I  suspect 
Warton's  knowledge  is  limited  by  Ascham's  reference). 

*  "Con  pill  ragion  sarebbe  che  i  primi  inventori  delle  rime  si  scusasser  coi  Greci 
et  coi  Latini,  dai  quali  fm*  del  tutto  damnate  et  fuggite,  che  io  con  loro."  Quoted 
by  Hauvette,  op.  cit.,  p.  219.  The  copy  of  the  Opere  Toscane,  1542,  in  the  Yale 
Library  lacks  the  Dedicatory  Epistle;  so  that  I  have  not  verified  the  quotation. 


HUMANISM  855 

possible  that  the  chosen  companion  of  the  son  of  the  King  of  Eng- 
land should  hold  literary  conversation  with  a  Florentine  exile 
twice  his  age,  it  is  inconceivable  that  the  latter  should  not  have 
left  some  comment  upon  such  an  auspicious  event.  And  among  all 
the  verses  flattering  Francis  and  his  court,  there  is  not  a  line  that 
suggests  that  he  had  even  heard  of  a  young  poet  of  the  blood  royal 
of  England.  The  second  of  the  difficulties  with  this  assumption 
is  that  it  fails  to  provide  for  Grimald.  The  further  assumption, 
entirely  without  proof,  must  be  made  that  he  was  the  imitator 
of  Surrey.  In  the  first  edition  of  Tottel,  dated  June  5,  1557,  two 
poems  by  Grimald  in  blank  verse.  The  Death  of  Zoroas,  and  Mar- 
cus Tullius  Ciceroes  death  appear.  Sixteen  days  later,  Tottel 
published  Surrey's  translation  of  the  Second  and  Fourth  Books 
of  the  yEneid.      Unless  there  be  a  prior  issue  of  the  Surrey,*  to 

^  The  fourth  holce  of  Virgil,  intr eating  of  the  love  betvxen  Dido  (and  Mneas) 
translated  into  English  and  dravme  into  a  straunge  metre  by  Henrye,  late  Earle 
qf  Surrey,  vxrrthy  to  he  embrased.  Printed  by  John  Day  for  Wm.  Owen  at  the 
Sign  of  the  Cock.  n.  d.  Of  this  edition  a  single  copy  remains,  in  the  Christie- 
Miller  collection  at  Britwell  Court.  As  it  has  never  been  collated  it  forms  the 
doubtful  X  in  any  discussion  of  the  origin  of  blank  verse.  In  spite  of  the  courteous 
efforts  of  Dr.  A.  W.  Pollard,  as  yet  I  have  no  facts  in  regard  to  it.  The  records 
show  that  it  was  sold  in  1824  and  in  1858.  In  my  complete  ignorance  of  the 
book,  there  is  first  the  possibility  that  it  may  be  a  forgery.  The  date,  1824,  is 
suggestively  near  the  Collier  forgeries.  If  this  were  proved  true,  it  would  ex- 
plain the  curious  and  unique  addendum  "drawn  into  a  straunge  metre."  It  seems 
odd  that  the  sixteenth  century  editor  should  have  thus  stressed  the  medium  of 
the  translation,  since  clearly  that  would  not  help  the  sale  of  his  book;  on  the  other 
hand,  as  the  sole  interest  in  1824  lay  in  the  fact  that  it  contains  the  earliest  ex- 
ample of  the  great  English  blank  verse,  equally  clearly  it  is  explicable  why  the 
forger  should  emphasize  this  fact  upon  the  title  page.  Thus  that  the  book  is 
sham  is  a  sinister  possibility. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  it  be  shown  to  be  genuine,  the  question  of  the  dating  be- 
comes imperative.  Unhappily  there  are  no  data.  It  was  printed  for  William 
Owen  "at  the  Sign  of  the  Cock";  Owen  appears  (Arber's  Registers)  in  1562  out- 
side of  Paul's,  but  where  he  was  previously  is  unknown.  The  condition  is  summa- 
rized by  Rudolf  Imelmann  (Surreys  Aeneis  IV  in  ursprunglicher  Oestalt,  Jahrbuch 
der  Deutschen  Shakcspeare-Gesellschaft,  Band  XLI,  82,  note  1)  where  he  posits 
the  date  1554.  The  sole  indication  is  the  fact  that  Owen  dedicates  the  work  to 
"Thomas,  Duke  of  Norfolk."  Clearly  Ilazlitt's  date  1548  is  untenable,  since  in 
that  year  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Surrey's  father,  was  an  attainted  prisoner  in  the 
Tower.  Under  these  circumstances  no  bookseller  in  his  senses  would  have 
headed  a  book  with  his  name.  If  he  l>c  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  of  the  dedication, 
the  time  is  narrowed  from  August  3,  1553,  when  his  title  was  restored  to  him  by 


866  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Grimald  belongs  the  honor  of  the  first  blank  verse  published  in 
England.  But,  as  Surrey  was  executed  in  1547,  his  verse  must 
have  been  written  before  that  date.  On  the  other  hand  Warton 
suggests — ^and  the  more  the  period  is  studied  the  greater  appears  his 
scholarship  and  the  little  relative  advance  made  since  his  work — 
that  Grimald's  verses  were  "prolusions  or  illustrative  practical 
specimens  for  our  author's  course  of  lectures  in  rhetoric."  In 
that  case  they  would  have  been  written  between  1541  and  1547. 
I  know  no  method  of  settling  the  priority  of  either  claimant.  But, 
until  that  be  done,  Surrey's  supposed  indebtedness  to  the  Italians 
merely  explains  half  the  problem. 

Such  are  the  facts.  The  only  hypothesis  that  includes  all  the 
circumstances  is  that  there  was  a  general  humanistic  impulse  in 
both  Italy  and  England.  The  leader  of  that  in  England  was  Sir 
John  Cheke.  It  will  be  remembered  that  he  was  teaching  at  Cam- 
bridge when  both  Ascham  and  Grimald  were  studying  there.  ^ 
Cheke's  theory  is  definitely  stated  by  Ascham.  The  passage, 
although  so  well  known,  is  worth  quoting  almost  entire.^ 

act  of  Parliament,  to  August  25,  1554,  when  he  died.  But  it  may  refer  equally 
to  Thomas,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  the  grandson  of  the  preceding  and  the  son 
of  the  poet,  and  it  would  be  as  appropriate.  This,  however,  would  make  the 
date  much  later.  During  the  sixties  Norfolk  lived  in  London,  enjoyed  great 
popularity  and  was  so  inclined  toward  learning  that  in  1566  he  gave  money  to 
restore  the  buildings  of  Magdalen  College,  Cambridge.  Against  so  late  a  date 
Fest  {tJber  Surrey's  Virgilubersetzung,  Palaestra  XXXIV,  10)  objects  that  Owen 
would  not  have  printed  the  Fourth  Book  alone  subsequent  to  Tottel's  edition 
of  both  books  in  1557,  and  Imelmann  adds  that  Tottel  was  privileged.  Both  of 
these  objections  seem  based  rather  upon  modem  copyrighted  editions,  than 
on  the  conditions  of  pubUshing  of  the  sixteenth  century.  If  the  Tottel  edition 
were  small,  in  a  decade  it  may  have  been  forgotten,  Owen  may  never  have 
seen  it,  or  he  may  have  obtained  possession  of  a  manuscript  of  the  Fourth  Book 
which  he  regarded  as  superior.  This  position  receives  some  slight  support  from 
the  fact  that  Ascham  writing  late  in  the  sixties,  {The  Scholemaster,  Arber's  Reprint, 
147),  knows  only  this  edition,  and  the  "drawn  into  straunge  metre"  is  compre- 
hensible when  it  is  realized  that  Gascoigne,  who  had  himself  used  the  meter,  does 
not  even  discuss  it  in  his  Certayne  Notes  of  Instruction  1575.  Until  the  unique 
exbting  copy  be  carefully  studied,  I  see  no  way  to  settle  this  question.  As  the 
later  date  is  surely  equally  plausible,  until  the  question  be  answered  all  arguments 
on  the  origin  of  blank  verse  must  be  regarded  as  tentative. 

^  The  avoidance  by  Ascham  of  any  mention  of  Grimald  is  perhaps  explainable 
on  the  same  grounds  that  caused  Tottel  to  expurgate  him  from  the  second  edition 
of  the  Miscellany. 

*  Ascham,  Scholemaster,  Arber's  Reprints,  pp.  144-149. 


HUMANISM  367 

"This  matter  maketh  me  gladly  remember,  my  sweete  tyme  spent  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  the  pleasant  talke  which  I  had  oft  with  M.  Cheke,  and  M.  Watson,  of 
this  fault,  not  onely  in  the  olde  Latin  Poets,  but  also  in  our  new  English  Rymers 
at  this  day.  They  wished  as  Virgil  and  Horace  were  not  wedded  to  follow  the 
faultes  of  former  fathers  (a  shrewd  marriage  in  greater  matters)  but  by  right 
Imitation  of  the  perfit  Grecians,  had  brought  Poetrie  to  perfitnesse  also  in  the 
Latin  tong,  that  we  Englishmen  likewise  would  acknowledge  and  vnderstand 
rightfully  our  rude  beggerly  ryming,  brought  first  into  Italic  by  Gothea  and  Hunnes, 
whan  all  good  verses  and  all  good  learning  to,  were  destroyed  by  them:  and  after 
caryed  into  France  and  Germanie:  and  at  last  receyued  into  England  by  men  of 
excellent  wit  in  deede,  but  of  small  learning,  and  lesse  iudgement  in  that  be- 
halfe. 

But  now,  when  men  know  the  difference,  and  haue  the  examples,  both  of  the 
best,  and  of  the  worst,  surelie,  to  follow  rather  the  Qothes  in  Ryming,  than  the 
Greekes  in  trew  versifiyng,  were  euen  to  eate  ackomes  with  swyne,  when  we  may 
freely  eate  wheate  bread  emonges  men.  In  deeds,  Chaucer,  Th.  Norton,  of  Bristow, 
my  L.  of  Surrey  ,M.  Wiat,  Th.  Phaer,  and  other  lentlemen,"  in  translating  Ouide, 
Pcdingeniua  and  Seneca,  haue  gonne  as  farre  to  their  great  praise,  as  the  copie  they 
followed  could  cary  them,  but,  if  soch  good  wittes,  and  forward  diligence,  had  bene 
directed  to  follow  the  best  examples,  and  not  haue  bene  caryed  by  tyme  and 
custome,  to  content  themselves  with  that  barbarous  and  rude  Ryming,  emonges 
their  other  worthy  praises,  which  they  haue  iustly  deserued,  this  had  not  bene 
the  least,  to  be  counted  amonges  men  of  learning  and  skill,  more  like  vnto  the 
Grecians,  than  vnto  the  Gothians,  in  handling  of  their  verse. 

In  deed,  our  English  tong,  hauing  in  vse  chiefly,  wordes  of  one  syllable  which 
commonly  be  long,  doth  not  well  receiue  the  nature  of  Carmen  Heroicum,  bicause 
dadylus,  the  aptest  foote  for  that  verse,  conteining  one  long  and  two  short,  is 
seldom  therefore  foimd  in  English:  and  doth  also  rather  stumble  than  stand  vpon 
Monasyllabis.  Quiniilian  in  hys  learned  Chapiter  de  Compositione,  geueth  this 
lesson  de  Monasyllabis,  before  me:  and  in  the  same  place  doth  iustlie  inuey  against 
all  Ryming,  if  there  be  any,  who  be  angrie  with  me,  for  misliking  of  Ryming,  may 
be  angry  for  company  to,  with  Quintilian  also,  for  the  same  thing:  And  yet 
Quiniilian  had  not  so  iust  cause  to  mislike  of  it  than,  as  men  haue  at  this  day. 

And  although  Carmen  Exametrum  doth  rather  trotte  and  hoble,  than  runne 
smothly  in  our  English  tong,  yet  I  am  sure,  our  English  tong  will  receiue  carmen 
lambicum  as  naturallie,  as  either  Greke  or  Latin.  .  .  . 

This  mislikyng  of  Ryming,  beginneth  not  now  of  any  newfangle  singularitie, 
but  hath  bene  long  misliked  of  many,  and  that  of  men,  of  greatest  leamyng,  and 
deepest  iudgement.  And  soch,  that  defend  it,  do  so,  either  for  lacke  of  knowl- 
edge of  what  is  best,  or  els  of  verie  enuie,  that  any  should  performe  that  in  leam- 
yng, whereunto  they,  as  I  sayd  before,  either  for  ignorance,  can  not,  or  for  idle- 
nes  will  not,  labor  to  attaine  vnto.  .  .  . 

The  noble  Lord  Th.  E^rle  of  Surrey,  first  of  all  English  men,  in  translating 
the  fourth  booke  of  Virgill:  and  Oonsaluo  Periz  that  excellent  learned  man,  and 
Secretarie  to  kyng  Philip  of  Spaine,  in  translating  the  Vlisses  of  Homer  out  of 
Qreke  into  Spanish,  haue  both,  by  good  iudgement,  auoyed  the  fault  of  Ryming, 
yet  neither  of  them  hath  fullie  hit(t)c  pcrfite  and  trew  versifying.      Indeed, 


S58  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

they  obserue  iust  number,  and  euen  feete:  but  here  is  the  fault,  that  their  feete: 
be  feete  without  ioyntes,  that  is  to  say,  not  distinct  by  trew  quantitie  of  sillabes: 
And  so:  soch  feete,  be  but  nurame  (benummed)  feete:  and  be,  euen  as  vnfitte 
for  a  verse  to  tume  and  runne  roundly  withall,  as  feete  of  brasse  or  wood  be 
vnweeldie  to  go  well  withall.  And  as  a  foote  of  wood,  is  a  plaine  shew  of  a  mani- 
fest maime,  euen  so  feete,  in  our  English  versifing,  without  quantitie  and  ioyntes, 
be  sure  signes,  that  the  verse  is  either,  borne  deformed,  vnnatural  and  lame,  and 
so  verie  vnseemlie  to  look  vpon,  except  to  men  that  be  gogle  eyed  them  selues. 

The  spying  of  this  fault  now  is  not  the  curiositie  of  English  eyes,  but  euen  the 
good  iudgement  also  of  the  best  that  write  in  these  dayes  in  Italic:  and  namelie 
of  that  worthie  Senese  Felice  Figlincci  ^.  .  . 

And  therefore,  euen  as  Virgill  and  Horace  deserue  most  worthie  prayse,  that 
they  spying  the  vnperfitnes  in  Ennius  and  Plautus,  by  trew  Imitation  of  Hon^r 
and  Euripides,  brought  Poetrie  to  the  same  perfitnes  in  Latin,  as  it  was  in  Greke, 
euen  so  those,  that  by  the  same  way  would  benefite  their  tong  and  contrey,  de- 
serue rather  thankes  than  disprayse  in  that  behalfe. 

And  I  rejoyce,  that  euen  poore  England  preuented  Italie,  first  in  spying  out, 
than  in  seekyng  to  amend  this  fault  in  learynng. 

This  passage,  though  written  twenty-five  years  later,  avowedly 
refers  to  the  conditions  at  Cambridge.  It  is  to  be  remarked  that, 
as  he  states  in  the  last  sentence,  it  is  a  matter  of  pride  that  Eng- 
land in  her  classical  revival  was  not  at  all  influenced  by  Italian 
leadership.  His  testimony, — ^and  it  would  be  hard  to  find  a  better, 
at  least  for  the  Cambridge  writers — is  that  unrimed  iambic 
verse  is  due  to  humanism.  Naturally  owing  to  the  familiarity 
of  the  pentameter  line  in  English  ears,  that  unrimed  iambic 
verse  became  pentameter.  In  other  words,  that  is  what  we  call 
blank  verse. 

Ascham  is  the  theorist  of  the  movement,  Grimald  is  the  expo- 
nent. Possibly  it  was  for  this  reason  that  the  Archdeacon  of  Peter- 
borough persuaded  him  to  go  to  Oxford.  In  any  case  his  poetry  is, 
such  as  it  is,  humanistic.  Even  in  the  case  of  Surrey,  if  we  must 
have  unsupported  hypotheses,  it  is  surely  as  probable  that  he  was 
influenced  by  such  a  man  as  Cheke,  as  by  Molza.^  Happily  we 
are  not  reduced  to  such  alternatives.  Humanism  evolved  blank 
verse  from  the  nature  of  its  being  in  both  countries.  And  the  Eng- 
lish writers  were  encouraged  to  persevere  by  the  Italian  precedents. 

^  Of  course  a  misprint  in  Arber  for  Figliucci. 

* "  Still,  it  is  most  likely  that  it  was  from  Italian  poetry  (possibly  Molza's 
translation  of  Vergil,  1541)  that  Surrey  immediately  drew  the  idea."  Harold 
H.  Child,  Cambridge  Hist,  of  Lit.,  iii,  200. 


HUMANISM  859 

But  without  the  Italian  the  result  would  probably  have  been 
the  same. 

The  very  poems  themselves  in  the  construction  of  their  sen- 
tences show  the  Latin  background.  In  Grimald's  verses,  On  the 
death  of  Zoroas,  said  by  Steevens  to  be  a  translation  from 
thirteenth  century  Latin, ^  the  subject  is  apt  to  follow  the  verb, 
and  the  adjective  the  governing  noun. 

Now  clattering  arms,  now  ragyng  broyls  of  warr 

Gan  passe  the  noyes  of  tara  tan  tars  clang: 

Shrowded  with  shafts,  the  heuen:  with  clowd  of  darts 

Couered,  the  ayre;  against  fulfatted  bulls. 

As  forceth  kindled  ire  the  Lions  keen: 

Whose  greedy  gutts  the  gnawing  hoonger  pricks: 

So  Macedoins  against  the  Persians  fare. 

Now  corpses  hide  the  purpurde  soyi  with  blood: 

Large  slaughter,  on  ech  side:  but  Perses  more 

Moyst  feelds  bebledd;  their  herts,  and  noombers  bate. 

Fainted  while  they  giue  back,  and  fall  to  flight: 

The  lightning  Macedon,  by  swoords,  by  gleaus. 

By  bands,  and  trowps,  of  fotemen  with  his  garde. 

Speeds  to  Darie:  but  him,  his  nearest  kyn, 

Oxate  preserues,  with  horsemen  on  a  plump 

Before  his  carr:  that  none  the  charge  could  giue. 

This,  in  spite  of  Warton's  epithet  of  "classical"  and  "elegant" 
cannot  be  said  to  be  great  poetry!  Surrey,  for  the  very  reason 
that  he  was  so  imbued  with  the  Latin,  is  much  better.^  And 
it  may  also  be  stated  that  owing  to  Grimald's  ill-repute  as  well 
as  to  Surrey's  romantic  career,  whatever  may  have  been  the 
actual  priority,  Surrey  is  really  the  father  of  blank  verse.  Yet, 
whoever  may  have  been  the  hypothetical  model  for  Surrey, 
without  question  it  was  the  study  of  classical  literature,  as 
taught  by  Cheke  at  Cambridge,  and  by  Grimald  at  Oxford,  that 
prepared  the  educated  reader  to  applaud  his  efforts.  Thus,  in 
the  conflicting  currents  aflPecting  sixteenth-century  literature,  that 
of  humanism  is  seen  to  be  not  the  least.  In  prose,  it  produced  a 
spirit  of  rational  criticism;  in  poetry  a  form  of  verse  big  with  fu- 

'  From  part  of  the  Latin  Alexandreia  of  Philip  Gualtier  de  Chatillon,  bishop 
of  Megala,  who  flourished  in  the  thirteenth  century.  Steevens  Shaiup.  vii,  877, 
ed.  1808.      Note  by  Park  in  WarUm,  op.  cit.,  52. 

'  Surrey's  humanism  is  discussed  in  Chapter  VL 


860  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

ture  triumphs.  Fortunately  for  English  literature  the  humanists 
did  not  succeed;  in  that  case  the  Augustan  Age  would  have  re- 
placed the  Elizabethan  and  dramas  like  Cato  would  have  been  writ- 
ten instead  of  Macbeth  and  Hamlet.  But  equally  fortunate  is  it 
that  they  attained  the  success  that  they  did,  because,  otherwise, 
Elizabethan  literature  would  not  have  been  the  glory  that  it  is. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   INFLUENCE   OF  CONTEMPORARY   LITERATURES   OF   SPAIN, 
GERMANY,    FRANCE,   AND   ITALY 

The  influenc,es  affecting  the  English  author  of  the  Renaissance 
in  his  search  for  models  was  by  no  means  limited  to  those  of  the 
English  tradition,  the  Medieval  Latin,  or  humanism.  The  in- 
fluences exerted  by  the  contemporary  Uteratures  on  the  Continent 
remain  yet  to  be  considered.  For,  however  insular  may  have  been 
the  position  of  England,  and  however  difficult  may  have  been  the 
passage  of  the  Channel,  the  fact  is  nevertheless  that  the  Channel 
was  crossed  repeatedly.  In  one  aspect  it  may  be  argued  that  the 
long  party  wars  of  the  fifteenth  century  tended  to  isolate  the  na- 
tion from  the  normal  Uterary  development  of  the  sister  nations. 
On  the  other  hand,  since  at  varying  times  a  large  number  of  the 
nobility  was  forced  into  exile  on  the  Continent,  many  of  them 
were  brought  into  contact  with  foreign  literature  and  foreign 
culture  to  a  degree  that  would  have  been  impossible  if  they  had 
remained  quietly  at  home.  Thus  the  Yorkists  found  an  asylum 
always  open  to  them  at  the  court  of  Mary  of  Burgundy,  and  the 
Lancastrians,  more  or  less  spasmodically  at  the  court  of  France. 
Under  Henry  VII  there  were  both  the  political  and  matrimonial 
alliances  with  Spain.  And  behind  all,  was  Italy  radiating  culture 
from  her  many  courts  and  typifying  the  Renaissance  in  her  many 
princes.  To  ignore  the  possibility  of  the  influence  of  any  of  these 
literatures  upon  EngUsh  would  be  an  obvious  error.  But  since  the 
influence  of  any  contemporary  literature  depends  to  a  large  ex- 
tent upon  variable  factors,  such  as  political  alliance,  sentimental 
interest,  and  national  sympathy,  and  even  a  literary  clique  respon- 
sive to  the  app)eal  of  that  particular  type  of  literature,  the  exact 
literary  epoch  in  England  must  be  clearly  distinguished;  to  esti- 
mate the  amount  of  any  such  influence,  to  distinguish  the  influence 
emanating  from  one  country  from  that  emanating  at  the  same 
time  from  others,  and  finally  to  analyze  the  reasons  for  such  a  con- 

S61 


S62  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

dition,  is  diflScult.  Yet  an  understanding  of  Tudor  literature  re- 
quires such  an  analysis. 

Of  the  four  literatures,  Spanish,  German,  French,  and  Italian, 
that  might  have  affected  England  in  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  at  first  sight  one  would  expect  to  find  Spanish  strongly 
represented.  At  intervals  during  three  centuries  England  and 
Spain  had  been  united  by  having  one  common  foe  in  France.  This 
traditional  friendship  was  given  visible  expression  when  in  1501 
Katharine,  the  daughter  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  became  the 
wife  of  Arthur,  Prince  of  Wales,  and  in  1509  Queen  of  England  as 
the  wife  of  Henry.  Naturally,  as  a  result  of  this,  Henry's  ambassa- 
dors to  Spain  numbered  such  well  known  men  as  Lord  Berners,  Sir 
Thomas  Boleyn,  Dr.  Sampson,  Cuthbert  Tunstall,  Sir  Richard 
Wingfield,  Dr.  Edward  Lee,  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  and  Edmund  Bon- 
ner.^ Spain,  on  her  side,  sent  not  only  the  retinue  of  Katharine, 
but  also  the  tutor  of  the  Princess  Mary,  Juan  Luis  Vives.  Still 
more,  many  of  the  men  in  Dorset's  ill-fated  expedition  to  aid  Spain 
in  1512  remained  there  as  a  link  between  the  two  countries.  With 
them  there  was  constant  communication.  So  with  Spaniards  in 
England  and  Englishmen  in  Spain,  with  the  two  countries  in  close 
political  alliance,  one  would  be  justified  in  positing  a  strong  Span- 
ish influence  on  English  literature. 

Actually  such  an  influence  is  slight  upon  early  Tudor  literature. 
"With  possibly  a  single  exception,  the  Spanish  books  which  were 
read  in  London  in  the  days  of  Henry  VIII  and  Edward  VI  were 
obtained  through  the  French  or  the  Latin."  ^  Here  again  is  il- 
lustrated the  danger  in  the  study  of  literature  of  deducing  from  a 
priori  probability.  Before  1550,  certainly  not  more  than  a  dozen 
books  had  been  translated  into  English,  or  adapted  for  English 
readers,  from  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese.'  Concerning  these 
there  are  two  generalizations  to  be  made:  first,  that  they  are  usu- 
ally taken  via  the  Italian  or  the  French ;  and  second,  that  they  are 

*  With  pleasure  I  acknowledge  my  very  great  obligations  in  tliis  portion  of  my 
work  to  Spanish  Liieraiure  in  the  England  of  the  Tudors,  by  John  Garrett  Under- 
bill, 1899.  As  I  had  independently  come  to  the  same  general  conclusion  as  Dr. 
Underbill,  I  am  joyously  using  his  illustrations.  For  a  more  thorough  treatment, 
I  refer  the  reader  to  his  work. 

*  Underbill,  of.  cii.,  342.      This  is,  however,  an  extreme  position. 

'  Underbill,  op.  cit.,  375,  lists  only  seven,  aside  from  occasional  tracts. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    363 

all  in  prose.  The  significance  of  the  first  statement  is  that  it  shows 
that  the  relation  between  the  countries  was  poUtical,  rather  than 
popular.  Spain  was  separated  from  England  on  the  water  side 
by  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  and  on  land  by  France  and  the  Pyrenees 
Mountains.  With  the  Spanish  cities  thus  inaccessible,  there  was 
no  paramount  reason  for  visiting  them.  Even  the  pilgrimage  to 
Saint  James  of  Compostella,  during  the  religious  inertia  preced- 
ing the  Reformation,  had  fallen  from  favor;  after  the  Reformation 
naturally  it  was  rare.  On  closer  scrutiny,  this  geographic  inaccessi- 
bility was  not  overcome  by  the  influence  of  any  personality.  The 
nexus  between  England  and  Spain  was  undoubtedly  Katharine. 
Yet  the  history  of  Katharine  in  England  consisted  largely  of  humil- 
iations. During  the  lifetime  of  Henry  VII  she  was  held  as  a  host- 
age for  the  payment  of  her  dower.  Her  letters  during  this  period 
form  a  series  of  striking  complaints.  She  was  unable  to  pay  her 
servants  and  even  had  to  pawn  her  jewels  to  provide  herself  with 
the  necessities.  Under  such  conditions  clearly  she  was  not  in  a 
position  to  stimulate  writers.  Equally  clearly  from  1518  on,  when 
the  tragedy  of  her  life  begins  to  take  form,  she  ceases  to  be  a  pos- 
sible center  for  strong  literary  influence.  Not  even  the  language 
was  domesticated  in  England.  On  Katharine's  arrival,  Henry  VII 
communicated  with  her  suite  through  the  medium  of  Latin.  Henry 
VIII,  himself,  is  said,  by  the  Venetian  Ambassador,  to  know 
Spanish,^  but  apparently  it  did  not  spread  through  his  court.  At 
least,  words  of  Spanish  origin  are  rarely  encountered.  In  fact  the 
whole  tragedy  of  Katharine's  life  lay  in  the  fact  that  she  was  an 
exile,  in  a  foreign  country,  in  which  her  customs  and  language  were 
unknown.  She  felt,  and  gave  free  expression  to  her  feelings,  that 
she  was  in  arms  against  a  court  hostile  both  to  her  and  to  her  coun- 
try. So,  in  regard  to  England,  Katherine  was  a  political  rather 
than  a  literary  force. 

The  other  personality,  around  which  a  literary  group  might 
gather,  was  Juan  Luis  Vives,  the  Tutor  to  the  Princess  Mary,  and 
Professor  of  Philosophy  at  Oxford.  That  Vives  exercised  a  dis- 
tinct influence  upon  English  thought  cannot  be  denied.^  In  Vives, 
however,  the  same  problem  recurs  of  national  influence  coming  via 
humanism.    To  what  extent  in  their  literary  output  is  PoUtian 

»P,  45.  *  Chapter  IV. 


864  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Italian,  Erasmus  Dutch,  Von  Hutten  German,  Bud^  French,  More 
EngUsh  and  Vives  Spanish?  So  far  as  their  works  in  the  languages 
of  the  respective  nations  are  concerned,  the  question  is  easy;  their 
Latin  works,  written  to  appeal  to  an  European  audience,  were  pro- 
fessedly free  from  geographic  and  racial  limitations.  Yet  in 
any  discussion  of  the  effect  of  one  literature  upon  another  the 
nationality  of  these  men  and  of  their  writings  is  apt  to  be  assumed. 
Although  Erasmus  is  usually  regarded  as  a  humanist  rather  than 
a  Hollander,  Vives  is  considered  to  have  brought  to  England  Span- 
ish "influence"  pure  and  undefiled.  Actually  the  lives  of  the  two 
are  not  very  different.  Vives  left  Spain  as  a  young  man  to  study  at 
Paris,  and  after  his  expulsion  from  England  he  did  not  return  there. 
His  essentially  rationahstic  mind  naturally  felt  more  at  home  in 
the  thought-free  region  of  northern  Europe  than  in  the  Inquisition- 
ridden  Spain.  And  being  thus  rationalistic,  his  turn  of  mind  is 
out  of  sympathy  with  either  the  mystic  exaltation  of  Saint  Teresa, 
or  the  superfine  chivalric  ideals  of  the  Amadis.  Consequently 
the  two  motifs  that  were  to  be  given  to  the  world  preeminently  by 
Spain  were  not  appreciated  by  him.  Among  the  "ungracious" 
Spanish  books  are  the  Amadis,  Florisand,  and  Tristan.^  The  fact 
that  these,  and  Celestina,  were  eventually  rendered  into  English, 
surely  was  not  on  accoimt  of  the  influence  of  Vives,  but  in  spite  of 
it.  And  Vives'  "disciples,"  Hyrde,  Moryson,  et  al,,  would  be  more 
inclined  to  the  furtherance  of  the  humanistic  propaganda,  as  they 
were,  than  in  promulgating  such  works  as  had  fallen  under  the 
master's  disapproval.  Consequently  it  is  hard  to  see  in  Vives  the 
possible  source  for  an  interest  in  Spanish  literature. 

This  reasoning  implies  merely  that  it  is  difficult  to  find  a  per- 
sonal focus  for  Spanish  influence,  but  it  does  not  deny  the  exist- 
ence of  such  an  influence.  That,  aside  from  casual  publications, 
begins  with  the  English  adaptation  of  the  Celestina,  a  curious  dra- 
matic novel  of  twenty-one  acts  in  prose.  The  origin  of  this  piece, 
signed  in  anagram  by  Fernando  de  Roy  as,  forms  one  of  the  cele- 
brated cruces  of  Spanish  literature.  The  author,  except  for  this 
masterpiece,  is  totally  unknown  in  literature.  The  plot  tells  the 
story  of  the  love  of  Calisto  for  Melebea,  which  ends  in  his  murder 
and  her  suicide.    So  far  it  is  the  conventional  motif  of  unhappy 

^  The  whole  passage  Is  given,  p.  323. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    365 

love.  The  novelty  however  appears  in  the  introduction  of  the  bawd 
Celestina  whom  Calisto  hires  as  a  go-between.  She  is  the  reverse 
of  the  conventional  character.  Drawn  with  sharp  realism,  she 
and  the  disreputable  scenes  in  which  she  figures  have  the  vitality 
of  the  Murillo  beggar.  And  just  as  Murillo  idealizes  in  the  Im- 
maculate Conception  and  yet  with  the  same  brush  presents  stud- 
ies of  street  types,  so  Royas  in  this  one  play  gives  vivid  expression 
of  two  extremes.  This  union  of  idealism  and  of  realism  made  for 
its  instant  popularity.  The  first  edition  was  published  in  1499, 
and  by  1550  thirty-three  editions  had  appeared  in  CastiUan.* 
Nor  was  its  success  limited  to  Spain.  At  Rome,  in  1506,  Al- 
phonso  Ordonez  translated  it  into  Italian.  This  translation  was 
reprinted  at  Milan  in  1514,  at  Milan  and  at  Venice  in  1515,  and 
at  Venice  in  1519  and  in  1525.  Also  there  were  two  French 
translations  in  1527  and  1529,  and  one  German  in  1520.^  Thus 
in  a  quarter  of  a  century  the  Celestina  had  obtained  an  Euro- 
pean reputation. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  is  not  surprising  that  it  should 
appear  in  English  dress.  But  in  the  mystery  surrounding  its 
authorship  the  English  version  far  outdoes  its  Spanish  original. 
It  was  published  without  the  name  of  the  author  and  without  the 
date  under  the  title  A  new  commodye  in  englysh  in  maner  Of  an 
enterlude  ryght  elygant  &full  of  craft  of  reihoryk/  wherein  is  shewd  & 
dyscryhyd  as  well  the  bewte  &  good  properies  of  women/  as  theyn 
vycys  &  euyll  condicions/  with  a  morall  conclusion  &  exhortacyon 
to  vertew.^  In  this  cumbrous  disguise  Celestine,  "the  bawd,  the 
mother  of  naughtiness,"  made  her  first  appearance  before  the  Eng- 
lish public.  It  is  both  more  and  less  than  a  translation.  It  is 
a  translation  because  of  the  1088  lines  800  are  rendered  more  or 

'  I  am  taking  these  Bgures  from  La  Celestina,  Tragecomedia  de  Calisto  y  Md- 
ebea,  par  Fernando  de  Royas.  Con  el  estudio  criiico  de  La  Celestina  nuevamente 
corregido  y  aumentado  del  excmo.  Senor  L.  Marelino  Menendez  y  Pelayo.  Vigo. 
Libreria  de  Eugenio  Krapf.  1899.  471. 

*  These  figures  are  taken  from  H.  Warner  Allen's  Cdestina,  with  Introduction 
on  the  Picaresque  Novel  and  Appendices,  341.  This,  so  far  as  the  English  is  con- 
cerned, is  the  most  careful  discussion  I  know. 

*  This  has  been  published  in  facsimile  by  J.  S.  Farmer  1909;  reprinted  by  Haz- 
litt,  1874;  Farmer,  Six  Anonymous  Plays,  1905,  p.  46;  Malone  Society,  1908;  and 
by  H.  Warner  Allen,  in  Celestina  trans,  by  James  Mabbe,  together  with  an  Intro- 
duction. 


866  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

less  literally.*  But  the  adapter  did  not  translate  eight  hundred 
consecutive  Unes.  Parts  of  the  original  prologue.  Acts  I,  II,  IV, 
and  V  compose  the  English  version.  As  an  illustration  of  the  free- 
dom of  his  treatment,  the  episode  between  Celestina,  Sempronio 
and  Elicia  in  the  Spanish  here  is  condensed  into  a  narrative  speech 
by  Celestina  of  fifty-five  lines.  Aside  from  this  speech,  the  un- 
pleasant side  of  Celestina  is  scarcely  touched  upon,  since  her 
solicitation  to  Melebea  is  outwardly  merely  for  the  sake  of  Calisto's 
health.  This  scene,  which  in  the  Spanish  is  the  prelude  to  her 
machinations,  in  the  English  is  the  culminating  point.  From  here 
on,  the  last  one  hundred  and  seventy  lines  are  entirely  original. 
The  father  of  Melebea,  here  called  Danio,  makes  his  first  entrance 
complaining  of  a  direful  dream.  This  is  interpreted  by  Melebea 
as  a  warning  to  her,  and  her  confession  betrays  a  knowledge  of 
Celestina  beyond  any  indication  given  in  the  EngUsh  version. 
The  father  then  turns  to  the  audience  and,  after  a  few  moral  com- 
monplaces, very  unexpectedly  discusses  English  social  conditions, 
a  topic  that  is  completely  irrelevant  to  the  play  in  hand.^ 

And  ye  faders  moders  &  other  which  be 
Rulers  of  yong  folks  your  charge  is  dowtles 
To  bryng  them  up  verteously  &  to  see 
Them  occupied  styll  in  some  good  bysynes 
Not  in  idell  pastyme  or  unthryf  tnes 
But  to  teche  them  some  art  craft  or  lemyng 
Whereby  to  be  able  to  get  theyr  lyffyng 

The  bryngers  up  of  youth  in  this  region 

Haue  done  gret  harme  because  of  theyr  neclygens 

Not  puttyng  them  to  lemyng  nor  occupacyons 

So  when  they  haue  no  craft  nor  sciens 

And  com  to  mans  state  ye  see  thexpience 

That  many  of  them  compellyd  be 

To  beg  or  stele  by  very  necessite 

But  yf  there  be  therefore  any  remedy 
The  hedys  &  rulers  must  furst  be  dylygent 
To  make  good  lawes  &  execute  them  straytely 

*  H.  Warner  Allen,  op  cit.,  341.  The  Spanish  is  very  accessible;  the  edition 
I  have  used  is  that  in  the  Bibliotheca  Romecas  142,  143,  144,  145  with  an  intro- 
duction by  Finty  Holle. 

*  Malone  Society  reprint,  1058-1100. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    367 

Uppon  such  maystres  that  be  neclygent 
Alas  we  make  no  laws  but  ponyshment 
When  man  haue  offendyd/  but  laws  euermore 
Wold  be  made  to  preuent  the  cause  before 

Yf  the  cause  of  the  myscheffs  were  seen  before 
Whych  by  coniecture  to  fall  be  most  lykely 
And  good  laws  &  ordynauncys  made  therefore 
To  put  a  way  the  cause/  yt  were  best  remdedi 
What  is  the  cause  that  ther  be  so  many 
Thefts  &  robberies/  it  is  be  cause  men  be 
Dryuen  thereto  by  nede  &  pouerte 

And  what  is  the  verey  cause  of  that  nede 
Be  cause  they  labur  not  for  theyr  lyffyng 
And  trewth  is  they  can  not  well  labour  in  dede 
Be  cause  in  youth  of  theyr  ydyll  upbryngng 
But  this  thyng  shall  neuer  come  to  refonnyng 
But  the  world  contynually  shalbe  nought 
As  long  as  yong  pepyll  be  euell  upbrought 

Wherefore  the  eternal  god  that  raynyth  on  hye 
Send  his  mercifull  grace  and  influens 
To  all  gouemours  that  they  circumspectly 
May  rule  theyr  inferiours  by  such  prudence 
To  bryng  them  to  vertew  &  dew  obedyeus  * 
And  that  they  &  we  all  by  his  grete  mercy 
May  be  parteners  of  hys  blessed  glory. 

This  passage  has  been  cited  in  full,  because  it  illustrates  two  pe- 
culiarities of  the  piece  that  are  rarely  mentioned.  First,  this 
"moral  conclusion"  is  clearly  inspired  by  the  First  Book  of  the 
Utopia.  More's  characteristic  and  (from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
sixteenth  century)  revolutionary  ideas  that  theft  is  caused  by  idle- 
ness and  idleness  by  poor  upbringing,  and  that  the  laws  are  destruc- 
tive rather  than  constructive,  form  here  the  unexpected  exhorta- 
tion to  virtue  added  to  a  study  of  Spanish  low  life.  And  second, 
the  entire  play  is  written  in  the  rime-royal.  In  the  original  the  be- 
ginning of  each  stanza  is  marked  by  the  paragraph  sign.  In  con- 
sideration of  the  liturgic  origin  of  the  drama,  the  use  of  the  many 
rimed  Medieval  Latin  forms  seems  normal,  and  the  use  of  the  he- 
roic couplet  scarcely  requires  explanation.  The  rime-royal,  how- 
ever, is  a  difficult  form   in  which  to  write,  and  in  a  conver- 

'  The  u  is  an  obvious  misprint  for  n. 


868  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

sation  is  necessarily  so  broken  that  it  would  be  unnoticed  by 
the  audience.  Yet  from  the  fact  that  occasionally  the  speakers 
address  the  audience  it  must  have  been  written  to  be  played. 
The  conclusion  seems  logical  that  the  author  is  experimenting 
for  a  fit  dramatic  medium. 

As  the  play  was  published  anonymously  and  undated,  these 
particulars  may  guide  our  conjectures.  Both  the  influence  of 
More  and  the  continuous  use  of  the  rime-royal  seem  to  point 
to  a  date  a  year  or  two  later  than  the  Utopia  (1516).  This  re- 
ceives unexpected  support  from  the  fact  that  the  type  used  here  is 
identical  with  that  used  in  another  interlude.  The  Four  Elements. 
In  this  latter,  allusions  to  the  death  of  Henry  VII  and  to  the  dis- 
covery of  America  roughly  place  it  as  toward  the  end  of  the  second 
decade  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Bale,  of  his  own  knowledge,  as- 
cribes the  authorship  of  the  Four  Elements  to  John  Rastell,  the 
brother-in-law  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  And  although  it  is  all  guess- 
work, and  the  colophon  reads  Johnes  rastell  me  imprimi  fecit.  War- 
ton's  suggestion  that  Rastell  was  also  the  author  is  as  plausible  as 
any.  And  this  also  would  explain  why  Vives,  in  his  enumeration 
of  the  medieval  chivalric  books,  included  the  Celestina  with  spe- 
cial expression  of  disapprobation.  Upon  his  arrival  in  England  he 
found  Spanish  literature  represented  solely  by  this  "mother  of 
naughtiness ! " 

And  it  may  have  been  due  to  Vives  that  the  Celestina  in  its  Eng- 
lish dress  had  no  greater  influence.  From  the  point  of  view  of 
dramatic  evolution,  the  interlude  is  vastly  superior  to  anything 
entirely  English,  or  that  was  to  be  produced  in  England  for  dec- 
ades.^ There  is  no  comparison  between  it  and  such  work  as  The 
Four  Elements.  But  the  fact  remains  that  apparently  it  did  have 
no  influence.  It  exists  in  a  single  copy.  There  is  no  record  of  any 
performance,  no  allusion  to  it  in  any  work  of  the  time,^  and,  still 
more  important,  its  lessons  in  dramatic  construction  were  entirely 
unheeded.  It  stands  in  curious  isolation.  As  such  is  the  case,  it 
can  scarcely  be  considered  as  widely  disseminating  Spanish  in- 
fluence. 

'  This  advance  in  the  type  of  drama  is  clearly  shown  by  A.  S.  W.  Rosenbach, 
The  Influence  of  the  'Celestina  in  the  Early  English  Drama,  1903,  reprinted  from 
the  Jahrbuch  des  Deutschen  Shakespeare — Gesellschaft,  1903. 

^  I  cannot  find  it  masquerading  in  any  of  the  Latin  titles  of  Bale. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    369 

In  apparent  contrast  with  the  uncertainty  surrounding  this  in- 
terlude is  the  work  of  John  Bourchier,  Lord  Bemers.  As  he  was 
a  great  noble,  the  facts  of  his  life  are  quite  fully  recorded.^  For 
about  fifty  years  he  Uved  the  active  life  of  a  public  man,  serving 
his  sovereign  in  various  capacities.  Then  in  December,  1520,  he  was 
appointed  deputy  of  Calais,  a  post  that  he  held  until  his  death  in 
March  1533.  The  assumption  is  that  the  enforced  leisure  of  these 
last  years  is  responsible  for  his  literary  production.  This  was 
neither  little  in  quantity,  nor  minimum  in  quality.  Aside  from 
regulations  for  the  garrison  of  Calais  ^  and  a  comedy  Ite  in  vineam, 
mentioned  by  Bale  but  now  lost,  his  translations  included  The 
Chronycle  of  Syr  John  Froissart,^  The  Boke  of  Duke  Huon  of  Bur- 
deuXy*  The  hy story  of  the  moost  noble  and  valyant  knyght  Arthur  of 
lytell  hrytayne,  the  Castell  of  Love,  and  the  golden  boke  of  Marke  Aure- 
lie  emperour.  In  mere  quantity  this  is  a  surprising  amount  to  have 
been  accomplished  in  thirteen  years,  and  it  suggests  that  the  duties 
of  the  deputy  general  of  Calais  were  not  onerous.  But  in  quality 
it  is  still  more  surprising.  Three  of  the  books,  the  Froissart,  the 
Huon,  and  the  Golden  Book  of  Marcus  Aurelius  became  part  of 
the  English  inheritance  of  the  sixteenth  century.  What  a  rare 
chance  to  be  able  to  introduce  one's  countrymen  to  books  so  vital 
to  them! 

Such  happy  fortune  arouses  curiosity  concerning  the  possessor 
of  it,  and  we  find  with  surprise  that  the  contrast  between  the  Ccl- 
estina  and  the  works  of  Bemers  is  more  apparent  than  real.  Al" 
though  we  know  any  number  of  the  facts  of  his  life,  of  the  man 
himself  we  learn  curiously  little.  Aside  from  an  occasional  pref- 
ace, his  work  is  all  translation.  And  even  there  he  has  no  initia- 
tive. The  translation  of  Froissart  was  suggested  by  Henry  VIII, 
of  Huon  by  Lord  George  Hastings,  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  the  Castle 
of  Love  by  Lady  Elizabeth  Carew,  and  the  Golden  Book  by  Sir 
Francis  Bryan.    The  only  one  that  is  not  definitely  stated  to  be 

'  His  life  has  been  written  by  Sir  Sidney  Lee  in  the  preface  to  the  Huon  of 
Burdeux,  E.  E.  T.  S.,  and  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  and  by  W.  P. 
Ker  in  his  suggestive  Introduction  to  the  Frousart  in  the  Tudor  Translations. 

*  Reprinted  by  the  Camden  Society. 

*  Reprinted  by  Mr.  G.  C.  Macaulay  in  the  Globe  iklition  and  by  Mr.  Ker  in 
the  aeries  of  Tudor  Translations. 

*  Reprinted  in  188i-87  for  the  E.  E.  T.  S..  by  Sir  Sidney  Lee. 


870  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

due  to  an  impulse  other  than  the  translator's  is  the  Arthur  of 
Little  Britain,  the  most  insignificant  of  the  lot!  And  it  is  the  pref- 
ace of  precisely  this  one  that  is  the  most  personal  piece  of  his 
writing.    The  passage  is  worth  quoting  entire.^ 

For  as  moche  as  it  is  delectable  to  all  humayne  nature  to  rede  and  to  here  these 
auncient  noble  hystoryes  of  the  chyvalrous  feates  and  marciall  prowesses  of  the 
vyctoryous  knyghtes  of  tymes  past,  whose  tryumphaunt  dedes,  yf  wrytynge  were 
not,  sholde  be  had  clene  oute  of  remembraunce;  and  also  bycause  that  ydelnesse 
is  reputed  to  be  the  moder  of  all  vices;  wherefore  somwhat  in  eschewynge  therof, 
and  in  the  waye  of  lowli  erudycyon  and  leamynge,  I  John  Bourghchere  knyghte 
lorde  Bemers  have  enterprysed  to  translate  out  of  Frensshe  in  to  our  matemall 
tongue  a  noble  hystory,  makynge  raencyon  of  the  famous  dedes  of  the  ryght 
valyaunt  knyght  Arthur  sonne  and  heyre  to  the  noble  duke  of  Brytayne,  and 
of  the  fayre  lady  Florence,  doughter  and  heyre  to  the  myghty  Emendus,  kynge 
of  the  noble  realme  of  Soroloys,  and  of  the  grete  trouble  that  they  endured,  or 
they  attayned  to  the  perfourmance  of  theyr  vertuous  amorous  desyers;  for  fyrste 
they  overcame  many  harde  and  straunge  adventures,  the  whiche  as  to  our  humayne 
reason  sholde  seme  to  be  incredible.  Wherfore  after  that  I  had  begon  this  sayd 
processe  I  had  determined  to  have  left  and  gyven  up  my  laboure,  for  I  thoughe 
it  sholde  have  ben  reputed  but  a  folye  in  me  to  translate  be  seming  suche  a  fayned 
mater,  wherin  semeth  to  be  so  many  unpossybylytees.  How  be  it  than  I  called 
agayne  to  my  remembraunce  that  I  had  redde  and  seen  many  a  sondrye  volume 
of  dyverse  noble  hystoryes  wherin  were  contayned  the  redoubted  dedes  of  the 
auncyent  invynsyble  conquerours  and  of  other  ryght  famous  knyghtes  who  acheved 
many  a  straunge  and  wonderfull  adventure,  the  whyche  by  playne  letter  as  to 
our  understandinge  sholde  seme  in  a  maner  to  be  supematurall:  wherfore  I  thought 
that  this  present  treatyse  myght  as  well  be  reputed  for  trough  as  some  of  those, 
and  also  I  doubted  not  but  that  the  first  auctour  of  this  boke  devysed  it  not  with 
out  some  maner  of  trouthe  or  vertuous  entent.  The  whyche  consyderacyons, 
and  other,  gave  me  agayne  audacyte  to  contynue  forth  my  fyrste  purpose  tyll 
I  had  fynysshed  this  sayd  boke,  not  presumynge  that  I  have  reduced  it  in  to 
fresshe  ornate  polysshed  Englysshe,  for  I  know  myself  insufficient  in  the  facondyous 
arte  of  rethoryke,  nor  also  I  am  but  a  lemer  of  the  language  of  Frensshe.  How 
be  it,  I  truste  my  symple  reason  hath  ledde  to  the  understandynge  of  the  true 
sentence  of  the  mater,  accordinge  to  the  whiche  I  have  followed  as  nere  as  I  coude, 
desyrynge  all  the  reders  and  herers  therof  to  take  this  my  rude  translacion  in 
gre,  and  yf  any  faute  be,  to  laye  it  to  myn  unconnynge  and  derke  ignoraunce, 
and  to  mynysshe,  adde  or  augment  as  they  shall  fynde  cause  requysyte.  And 
in  theyr  so  doynge  I  shall  praye  to  God  that  after  this  vayne  and  transytory  lyfe 
he  may  brynge  them  imto  the  perdurable  joye  of  heven.    Amen. 

Of  course  the  tone  of  this  preface  is  that  of  the  conventional  Lyd- 
gatian  apology.    He,  like  Hawes  and  the  rest,  is  writing  to  eschew 

^  I  am  quoting  this  from  Ker's  Frausart,  v.  i,  p.  xviii,  as  I  have  never  seen  a 
copy  of  the  book. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    371 

idleness,  and  like  Hawes  and  the  rest  he  is  not  skilled  in  the  "fac- 
ondyous  "art  of  rhetoric, — the  very  terms  are  hackneyed !  In  two 
places,  however,  the  real  man  seems  to  be  speaking,  first  where 
he  confesses  his  lack  of  belief  in  the  romance,  and  secondly  where 
he  acknowledges  his  Umited  French.  Each  of  these  would  seem  to 
imply  that  the  Arthur  of  Little  Britain  was  written  very  early  in  his 
career,  not,  as  is  usually  given,  after  both  the  Huon  and  the  Frois- 
sart,  since  the  monstrous  incredibilities  of  the  first  and  the  endless 
pages  of  the  second  would  surely  have  given  him  adequate  train- 
ing in  both  directions.  But,  at  least,  here  you  seem  to  hear  a  per- 
sonality. And  the  same  is  true  of  his  preface  to  the  Froissart. 
After  a  number  of  platitudinous  half-truths,  he  tells  us  the  way 
he  translates.  But  he  tells  us  curiously  Uttle,  in  comparison 
with  the  importance  of  the  work. 

Perhaps  the  answer  to  the  riddle  is  that  there  is  no  riddle.  The 
face  of  Lord  Bemers  in  the  Holbein  portrait  ^  shows  no  great  in- 
tellect. Small  eyes,  large  nose,  thick  lips,  heavy  jowl, — from  his 
appearance  no  one  would  judge  him  a  great  conscious  artist  in 
style.  Nor  in  fact  was  he.  The  mastery  of  his  style  is  due  to  the 
complete  subordination  of  his  own  personality  to  that  of  his  author. 
He  has  no  desire  for  scholarly  accuracy,  he  has  no  artistic  longing 
for  a  choice  vocabulary,  he  makes  no  attempt  to  reproduce  atmos- 
phere. He  is  trying  literally  to  translate,  to  write  the  book  in  such 
English  as  the  author  would  have  used  had  he  been  an  English- 
man and  contemporaneous.^ 

And  in  that  I  have  nat  folowed  myne  author  worde  by  worde,  yet  I  tniat  I  have 
ennewed  the  true  reporte  of  the  sentence  of  the  mater;  and  as  for  the  true  namyng 
<rf  all  maner  of  personages,  countreis,  cyties,  townes,  ryvers,  or  feldes,  whereas  I 
coude  nat  name  them  properly  nor  aptely  in  Englysshe,  I  have  written  them  ac- 
cordynge  as  I  founde  them  in  Frenche;  and  thoughe  I  have  nat  gyven  every  lorde, 
knyght,  or  squyer  his  true  addycion,  yet  I  trust  I  have  not  swarved  fro  the  true 
sentence  of  the  mater.  And  there  as  I  have  named  the  dystaunce  bytwene  places 
by  myles  and  leages,  they  must  be  understande  acordyng  to  the  custome  of  the 
countreis  where  as  they  be  named,  for  in  some  place  they  be  lengar  than  in  some 
other;  in  Englande  a  leage  or  myle  is  well  knowen;  in  Fraunce  a  leage  is  two 
myles,  and  in  some  place  thre;  and  in  other  countre  is  more  or  lesse;  every 
nacion  hath  sondrie  customes.    And  if  any  faute  be  in  this  my  rude  trana- 

>  It  is  reproduced  in  the  E.  E.  T.  S.  Huon. 
'  Preface  to  the  Froitaart, 


372  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

lacyon,  I  remyt  the  correctyon  therof  to  them  that  discretely  shall  fynde  any 
reasonable  defaute;  and  in  their  so  doynge,  I  shall  pray  God  to  sende  them  the 
biysse  of  heven. 

What  a  naive  confession!  Like  a  child,  he  sits  down  to  pass  the 
long  hours  at  Calais  by  turning  the  French  into  the  English.  Oc- 
casionally he  misses  the  sense  of  the  sentence,  and  usually  he  has 
but  the  faintest  idea  of  where  the  places  are  that  he  is  talking  about. 
But  he  is  writing  to  eschew  idleness,  and  it  does  not  matter 
much.  This  unconsciousness  of  self,  this  submergence  of  the  man- 
ner into  the  matter,  makes  of  him  a  channel  through  which  the 
charm  and  verve  of  the  original  pass  with  scarcely  any  let  or  hin- 
drance. Thus  he  succeeds  to  a  degree  not  possible  in  a  more 
sophisticated  age,  or  by  a  more  sophisticated  man,  in  transplanting 
the  medieval  masterpieces  to  English  soil. 

Of  the  five  books  that  Berners  translated  in  these  thirteen  years, 
although  he  probably  took  them  all  from  French  versions,  two  were 
originally  Spanish  and  so  concern  us  here.  A  good  deal  of  time 
has  been  spent  fruitlessly  in  discussing  the  motives  that  led  him  to 
choose  Spanish  books,  such  as  his  probable  interest  in  Spain,  where 
he  had  been  as  ambassador.  But  it  has  yet  to  be  shown  that  he 
had  any  interest  in  Spain,  or  even  knew  the  language.  The  Golden 
Book,  at  least,  is  stated  to  have  been  taken  "out  of  Frenche  into 
englysh"  without  any  mention  of  Spanish.  And  with  this  in- 
terpretation of  his  character  no  lengthy  explanation  is  necessary 
why  the  particular  books  should  have  been  chosen.  The  Castell 
of  Love,  translated  from  the  Cdrcel  de  Amor  by  Diego  de  San  Perdo, 
is  a  prose  allegorical  romance  of  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  type. 
There  is  no  particular  significance  to  this  particular  volume  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  that  the  style  in  which  it  is  written  is  mannered  and 
artificial.  In  modem  conceited  prose  the  old  allegorical  romance 
was  revamped  for  Renaissance  readers.  We  are  told  that  Lord 
Berners  translated  it  at  the  instance  of  his  niece.  Lady  Elizabeth 
Carew.  Here  is  probably  all  the  motive  that  he  had.  It  is  pre- 
eminently a  lady's  book,  rather  pretty,  quaintly  conventional,  and 
with  a  certain  long-drawn-out  sweetness.  Yet  it  belongs  to  a 
past  age.  The  Arcadia  of  Sannazzaro,  with  its  pastoral  settings 
and  with  its  enamelled  descriptions  of  singing  shepherds,  equally 
mannered  and  equally  artificial,  was  soon  to  banish  these  medieval 
lovers  into  the  Garden  of  Oblivion,  whose  portal  is  Forgetfulness. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    373 

But  the  Lady  Elizabeth  was  quite  within  the  literary  tastes  of  the 
day  when  she  asked  her  uncle  to  translate  it  for  her.* 

The  other  of  the  two  books  taken  from  the  Spanish,  the  Golden 
Bake  of  Marc  Aurelie  is  quite  another  story.  It  was  one  of  the  pop- 
ular books  of  the  century.  The  author's  edition  appeared  at  Val- 
ladolid  in  1529,  by  the  Franciscan  Antonio  de  Guevara,  Bishop  of 
Guadix,  Confessor  and  Chronicler  to  the  Emperor.  According 
to  his  own  account  he  began  it  in  1518.  Although  he  kept  it  as 
secret  as  he  could,  during  these  years  copies  went  abroad  and  it 
was  printed  at  Seville,  in  Portugal,  and  in  the  Kingdom  of  Na- 
varre. This  spurious  version  was  entitled  The  Golden  Book  of  Mar- 
<rus  Aurelius.  It  was  translated  in  1531  by  Rene  Bertaut  and  is 
the  immediate  original  of  the  Berners.  Guevara's  own  edition  is 
entitled  Libro  del  emperador  Marco  aurelio  con  relox  de  principes: 
auctor  del  qual  es  el  obispo  de  Gavdix:  nueuamente  reuisto  por  su 
sehoria.  And,  as  the  title  said,  it  was  revised  and  enlarged.  This, 
in  turn,  was  translated  again  by  Rene  Bertaut  in  1540,  and  this 
second  version  is  the  original  of  Sir  Thomas  North's  Diall  of  Princes, 
1557.^  So  was  it  possible  to  have  two  books,  both  translated  from 
the  same  work  and  both  through  the  French,  that  yet  differ  so  mark- 
edly. Of  the  Berners  there  were  fifteen  editions  during  the  century, 
and  three  of  the  North.  Consequently  any  student  of  English  lit- 
erature of  the  sixteenth  century  must  reckon  with  Guevara. 

Popular  though  it  was  with  the  sixteenth  century,  it  has  failed 
to  win  the  approval  of  modern  critics.  "The  Golden  Book  so 
styled  is  really  a  Brazen  Calf,  of  the  pattern  invented  specially 
for  the  Renaissance  and  its  idolaters"  is  Ker's  caustic  and  sum- 
mary dismissal: '  Martin  Hume  characterizes  it  as  "a  set  of  moral 
apologues,  infinitely  tedious  they  seem  to  us  now."  *  Since  the 
matter  of  the  book  seems  so  wearisome,  its  undeniable  popularity 
has  been  explained  by  emphasizing  its  style,  and  pages  are  written 
discussing  the  relation  of  Euphuism  to  Guevara.^    This  general 

*  My  knowledge  of  the  Spanish  original  and  of  the  English  translation  is  only 
second-hand. 

*  For  this  confused  bibliography  I  am  indebted  to  R.  W.  Bond's  edition  of  Lyly, 
i.  1S6,  and  Underhill,  op.  cU..  378. 

*  Frouaart,  op,  cit.,  v.  i,  p.  xxvi. 

*  Spanish  Influence  on  English  Literaiure,  by  Martin  Hume,  1805,  p.  55. 

'  The  whole  question  of  the  development  of  prose  and  the  relation  of  Guevara's 
style  to  that  development  is  postponed  to  a  future  study. 


374  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

reasoning  seems  fallacious.  It  may  safely  be  questioned  whether 
any  prose  at  any  time  was  read  by  many  Anglo-Saxons  merely  for 
the  pleasure  of  appreciating  artistic  composition,  however  possible 
it  may  have  been  for  the  cinquecento  Italian.  The  average  EngUsh 
reader  buys  a  book  because  he  likes  what  it  says;  the  neat  expres- 
sion of  his  opinion  is  a  very  real,  but  secondary,  enjoyment.  Thus 
he  imitates  the  manner,  because  he  likes  the  matter,  just  as  a 
boy  copies  the  personal  peculiarities  only  of  those  whom  he  ad- 
mires. Of  course  the  style  is  there.  At  the  very  end  of  the  book 
there  is  an  epilogue,  presumably  written  by  the  printer,^  which 
concludes: 

But  finally  the  sauce  of  the  sayd  style  moveth  the  appetite.  Many  bokes  there 
be  of  substancial  meates,  but  they  be  so  rude  and  unsauery,  and  the  style  of  so 
smal  grace,  that  the  fyrste  morsell  is  lothesome  and  noyfuU.  And  of  suche  bokes 
foloweth  to  lye  hole  and  sounde  in  lybraries,  but  I  trust  this  wylle  not. 

This  is  an  exact  statement.  The  book  must  stand  or  fall  by  its 
intrinsic  merit;  after  that,  "finally  the  sauce  of  the  style  moveth 
the  appetite."  The  explanation  of  the  great  contemporaneous 
success  lies  deeper  than  in  mere  tricks  of  style. 

It  is  not  diflBcult,  I  think,  to  understand  why  to  the  sixteenth 
century  the  matter  of  the  Golden  Book  seemed  golden.  According 
to  Guevara's  own  account  he  had  found  among  the  books  of  Cos- 
imo  de  Medici  at  Florence  a  manuscript,  written  by  three  friends 
of  Marcus  Aurelius,  giving  in  great  detail  an  account  of  his  char- 
acter, and  his  attitude  at  many  representative  occasions.  The 
value  of  it  lay  in  the  fact  that  it  professed  to  be  authentic.  Actually 
of  course  it  was  a  literary  forgery.  And  Guevara  could  not  have 
known  much  of  Aurelius,  since  the  Meditations  were  not  published 
until  1558.  The  worthy  bishop  regarded  profane  history  as  a 
pastime;  the  book  is  a  curious  farrago  of  classical  reminiscence 
and  pure  invention.  The  character  of  the  emperor  is  merely  a 
peg  upon  which  he  hangs  his  own  moral  reflections  and  into 
whose  mouth  he  puts  his  own  opinions.  When  accused  of  forgery, 
he  retreated  behind  the  imaginary  manuscript.    To  us  with  our 

^  Sir  Sidney  Lee  (Huon  of  Burdeux  E.  E.  T.  S.  ii,  788)  says  that  this  epilogue  is 
"almost  certainly"  from  the  pen  of  Sir  Francis  Bryan.  I  know  no  reason  for  this 
assumption,  except  that  the  book  was  undertaken  at  his  suggestion  and  that  he 
himself  translated  a  work  of  Guevara. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    375 

critical  knowledge  of  ancient  Rome,  the  pretence  is  clumsily  ob- 
vious. We  have  few  illusions  concerning  the  ancient  civilization. 
But  in  the  sixteenth  century  it  was  very  different.  Then  was 
the  floodtide  of  the  Renaissance.^  In  comparison  with  the  civili- 
zation that  they  knew,  the  glories  of  imperial  Rome  seemed  like 
a  dream.  When  even  Gibbon  can  state  "If  a  man  were  called  to 
fix  the  period  in  the  history  of  the  worid  during  which  the  con- 
dition of  the  human  race  was  most  happy  and  prosperous,  he 
would,  without  hesitation,  name  that  which  elapsed  from  the  death 
of  Domitian  to  the  accession  of  Commodus, "  is  it  any  wonder  that 
to  them  that  age  should  have  seemed  one  of  gold?  All  of  mankind 
were  happy.    As  Lord  Berners  expresses  it. 

This  auncient  worlde  that  ranne  in  Satumus  dayes,  the  whiche  the  otherwyse  was 
called  the  Golden  worlde,  the  whyche  was  so  estemed  of  them  that  sawe  it,  and  soo 
moche  praysed  of  theym  that  herde  the  wrytynge  thereof,  and  too  moche  desyred  of 
them  that  felt  no  parte  therof,  was  not  golde  by  the  sages  that  dyd  gylte,  but  by- 
cause  there  none  yll  that  dyd  ungylte  it. 

And  with  this  idealization  of  the  classic  age  came  naturally  an 
idealization  of  the  classic  men.^  They  furnished  models  to  be 
emulated  but  their  moral  grandeur  could  never  be  attained  in 
modern  degenerate  days.  In  the  same  spirit  Elyot  wrote  his  Im- 
age of  Governance  to  picture  forth  the  perfect  man.  But  the  Golden 
Book  was  still  better.  Authenticated  by  the  Bishop  of  Guadix, 
it  was  the  real  thing!  The  stage  had  been  set  and  was  ready,  and 
the  hero  stepped  forth!  Men,  who  knew  him,  told  the  reader 
what  were  his  mental  processes  in  the  most  diverse  situations, 
what  he  said  to  his  wife  when  she  wished  to  enter  his  study,  the 
letters  that  he  wrote  on  various  occasions.  This  was  not  hard 
reading.  It  was  flooded  with  anecdote,  illustration,  dialogue,  and 
familiar  allusion  to  all  writers  of  antiquity.  To  his  great  delight, 
he  found  his  own  sixteenth-century  morality  endorsed  by  the  pre- 
cepts and  practices  of  the  great  emperor,  his  own  opinions  of  men 
and  matters  confirmed.  All  this  is  in  an  antithetic,  epigrammatic, 
style,  easy  to  remember  and  pleasant  to  quote!  What  matters  it 
that  we,  who  from  the  Meditations  know  the  real  pagan  philosophy 
and  whose  morality  is  quite  different  from  that  of  the  sixteenth 

'  Compare  Chapter  I  of  the  present  work. 
'  Cf.  pp.  S17  of  the  present  work. 


376  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

century,  find  the  matter  of  the  book  dull  and  the  style  artificial? 
Sympathetically,  at  least,  we  should  be  able  to  thrill  with  the  read- 
er of  the  sixteenth  century. 

But  when  it  comes  to  discussing  what  part  of  the  influence  of  the 
Golden  Book  is  peculiarly  Spanish,  the  question  becomes  intricate. 
The  book  itself  is  a  product  of  Spanish  humanism,  it  is  true,  but 
still  humanism.  Perhaps  the  differentiation  may  be  found  in  a  sug- 
gestion of  Martin  Hume  of  the  "orientalism"  of  Spanish  culture. 
From  their  contact  with  the  Moors,  the  Spaniards  learned  to  pre- 
cede the  moral  lesson  by  its  concrete  application,  as  is  done  in  the 
fable.  This  method  of  deducing  the  general  moral  from  the  particu- 
lar case  is  that  which  is  employed  here.  The  reason  for  the  mass  of 
concrete  detail,  which  naturally  gave  interest,  is  not  on  account  of 
the  interest  but  on  account  of  the  lesson  to  be  deduced.  With  this 
in  mind,  the  two  books  of  Elyot  form  an  illuminating  contrast. 
The  Governor  is  abstract;  it  carefully  works  out  its  propositions, 
and  then  enforces  them  by  illustration.  But  the  Image  of  Govern- 
ance is  exactly  the  reverse.  By  narrating  the  "actes  and  sentences 
notable,  of  the  moste  noble  Emperor  Alexander,  for  his  wysedome 
and  grauitie  called  Seuerus,"  ^  he  endeavors  to  create  a  governor. 
While  the  aim  of  both  books  is  identical,  the  methods  are  diamet- 
rically opposed.  He  tells  us  that  it  was  while  writing  his  diction- 
ary, 1536-38,  that  he  re-worked  some  material  gathered  nine  years 
before.  Even  assuming,  as  we  have  no  right  to  do,  that  the  pres- 
ent work  is  identical  in  form  with  that  of  the  late  twenties,  it  yet 
would  have  been  possible  for  him  through  Vives  and  Sir  Thomas 
More  to  have  seen  the  spurious  edition.  But  in  1531  he  was  sent 
as  ambassador  to  the  Emperor.  There,  almost  certainly,  he  would 
have  come  into  contact  with  Guevara,  or  his  book.  So  it  seems  a 
fair  statement  that  the  difference  in  treatment  between  the  Gov- 
ernor and  the  Image  of  Governance  is  due  to  Guevara.  If  this  be  the 
case,  the  Bishop  of  Guadix  starts  the  long  line  of  fictitious  biog- 
raphies for  a  moral  purpose  that,  not  so  many  years  ago,  used  to 
sadden  Sunday  for  the  Anglo-Saxon  youth. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  Golden  Boke  was  translated  "at 
the  instant  desire  of  his  nephewe  syr  Francis  Bryan  knyghte." 
Thus  is  introduced  to  literature  one  of  the  puzzling  figures.    As  an 

^  The  whole  passage  is  quoted,  pp.  306-307. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    377 

historical  character  he  is  well  known.  Through  the  various  mar- 
riages of  his  grandmother,  n^  Elizabeth  Tilney,  he  was  related  to 
many  of  the  court;  shortly  after  the  death  of  his  grandfather,  Hum- 
phrey Bourchier,  she  married  Thomas  Howard,  first  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk, by  whom  she  had  eight  sons  and  three  daughters.  Among  the 
descendants  of  these  in  the  next  generation  were  Queen  Anne  Bol- 
eyn,  Queen  Katherine  Howard  and  the  Earl  of  Surrey.  Almost  as  a 
matter  of  course,  with  such  a  connection,  he  was  brought  up  in  the 
court  circle.    In  1518-19  Hall  in  his  Chronicle  notes  -} 

Duryng  this  tyme  remayned  in  the  Frenche  court  Nicholas  Carew  Fraunces 
Brian  and  diverse  other  of  the  young  gentelmen  of  England  and  they  with  the 
Frenche  kyng  roade  daily  disguysed  through  Parys,  throwyng  Egges,  stones  and 
other  foolishe  trifles  at  the  people,  whiche  light  demeanoure  of  a  kyng  was  muche 
discommended  and  gested  at.  And  when  these  young  gentelmen  came  again  into 
England,  they  were  all  Frenche,  in  eatyng,  drynkyng  and  apparell,  yea,  and  in 
Frenche  vices  and  bragges,  so  that  all  the  estates  of  Englande  were  by  them  laughed 
at:  the  ladies  and  gentel women  were  dispraised,  so  that  nothing  by  them  was 
praised,  but  if  it  were  after  the  Frenche  tume,  whiche  after  turned  them  to  dis- 
pleasure as  you  shall  here.  ...  In  whiche  moneth  the  kynges  counsaill  secretly 
communed  together  of  the  kynges  gentlenes  and  liberalitie  to  all  persones:  by  the 
whiche  they  perceived  that  certain  young  men  in  his  privie  chamber,  not  regardyng 
his  estate  nor  degree,  were  so  familier  and  homely  with  hym,  and  plaied  suche 
light  touches  with  hym  that  they  forgat  themselfes:  Whiche  thynges  although  the 
king  of  his  gentle  nature  suffred  and  not  rebuked  nor  reproved  it:  yet  the  kynges 
counsail  thought  it  not  mete  to  be  suffred  for  the  kynges  honor,  and  therfore  thei 
altogether  came  to  the  king,  beseching  him  al  these  enormities  and  lightnes  to  re- 
dresse.  .  .  .  Then  the  kynges  counsaill  caused  the  lorde  chamberlein  to  cal  before 
them  Carew  (and  another  who  yet  liveth,  and  therfore  shall  not  at  this  time  be 
named)  *  with  diverse  other  also  of  the  privy  chamber,  whiche  had  bene  in  the 
French  court,  and  banyshed  them  the  courte  for  diverse  consideracions,  laying 
nothing  particulerly  to  their  charges.  And  they  that  had  oflSces  were  commaunded 
to  go  to  their  offices:  whiche  discharge  out  of  the  courte  greved  sore  the  hartes  of 
these  young  menne  whiche  were  called  the  kynges  minions.  .  .  .  These  young 
minions  which  was  thus  severed  from  the  kyng,  had  bene  in  Fraunce,  and  so  highly 
praised  the  Frenche  kyng  and  his  courte,  that  in  a  maner  they  thought  litle  of  the 
kyng  and  his  court,  in  comparison  of  the  other,  they  were  so  high  in  love  with  the 
Frenche  court,  wherefore  their  fall  was  litle  moned  emong  wise  men. 

This  extract  is  interesting  as  showing  that,  at  the  time  when  Kath- 
arine of  Aragon  was  still  dominant,  Bryan  was  in  the  inner  court 

>  Whibley's  edition  of  Hall's  Henry  VIII,  op.  cU.,  i.  175;  177-8. 
*  Bryan  survived  Hall  three  years. 


S78  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

circle;  the  Carew  mentioned  with  him  was  his  brother-in-law.  This 
dubious  preeminence  in  pandering  to  the  disreputable  side  of 
Henry's  nature  later  earned  for  him  the  epithet  "Vicar  of  Hell." 
At  least  he  deserved  it  by  his  cleverness.  Although  Carew  him- 
self, and  Anne,  and  Katharine  Howard,  and  Surrey  and  so  many 
others  of  the  group  fell  under  Henry's  displeasure  and  were  exe- 
cuted, Bryan  was  chief  henchman  at  his  f imeral.  He  himself  died  a 
sudden  but  natural  death  in  1550.  And  the  passage  quoted  is  also 
interesting,  as  showing  that  at  that  time  Bryan  was  preeminently 
French  in  his  sympathies.  The  importance  of  this  is  that  modern 
writers  have  assumed  in  him  a  Spanish  interest  to  explain  another 
assumption  that  Guevara  was  his  "favorite"  author.  Actually 
nothing  is  known  of  his  literary  tastes.  But  we  do  know  that, 
traditionally,  Wyatt  and  Surrey  were  merely  two  of  a  number  of 
"courtly  makers,"  of  which  Bryan  is  said  to  have  been  one.  The 
first  reference  to  his  literary  ability,  however,  is  by  Meres  in  1598, 
as  being,  among  fourteen  others,  "most  passionate  among  us  to 
bewaile  and  bemoane  the  perplexities  of  loue."  Then  Drayton 
adds  his  statement.  But  the  curious  feature  is  that  in  none  of  the 
books  published  in  the  half-century  after  his  death,  such  as  those 
by  Ascham,  Sidney,  or  Puttenham,  is  he  mentioned.  Still  more 
curious  is  it  that  he  escaped  being  catalogued  by  Bale,  whose  lists 
are  all-inclusive.  Theoretically,  if  a  man  socially  so  prominent  did 
anything  at  all.  Bale  would  know  it.  Apparently  to  his  contem- 
poraries he  was  as  unknown  as  a  writer  as  he  was  well-known  as  a 
leader.  In  Wyatt's  Third  Satire^  the  reference  seems  to  be  to  him 
as  a  critic.^ 

When  I  remembr  this,  and  eke  the  case 

Where  in  thou  stondes,  I  thowght  forthwith  to  write 
Brian,  to  thee,  who  knows  how  great  a  grace 

In  writing  is  to  cownsell  man  the  right; 

To  the  therefore,  that  trottes  still  up  and  downe 
And  never  restes,  .  .  . 

Yet  as  a  hterary  figure  his  outhnes  are  very  uncertain. 

1  The  Poems  of  Sir  Thomas  Wiat,  by  A.  K.  Foxwell,  London  1913,  i,  147.  This  is 
the  last  and  by  far  the  most  careful  edition  of  Wyatt.  The  simpler  form  of  spelling 
the  name  can  certainly  be  justified,  as  also  in  the  case  of  Bryan,  but  so  can  the 
conventional  form.  And  even  with  the  best  of  intentions,  I  should  probably  forget 
and  spell  it  Wyatt! 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    379 

It  is,  therefore,  with  a  sense  of  relief  that  one  turns  to  a  definite 
fact.  In  1548  Grafton's  press  brought  out  A  Dispraise  of  the  life  of 
a  Courtier  and  a  commendacion  of  the  life  of  the  labouryng  man. 
(Qui  of  Castilian  drawen  into  Frenche  by  Antony  Alaygre  and  now 
Old  of  the  Frenche  toungue  into  our  maUmal  language  by  Sir  Fraunces 
Bryant.^  In  spite  of  Bale  and  the  early  critics,  this  is  probably  by 
Bryan,  since  the  re-issue  in  1575,  with  the  title  A  Looklng-glasse 
for  the  Courte  adds  after  the  name  "one  of  the  priuye  chamber  in 
the  raygn  of  K.  Henry  the  eyght."  Via  the  French,  this  is  a  trans- 
lation of  Guevara's  Menospredo  de  Corte  y  Alabama  de  Aldea.^ 
Now,  for  the  Golden  Boke  it  is  possible  to  say  a  good  word,  although 
that  word  is  not  often  spoken.  But  for  the  Dispraise,  either  in  its 
original  form,  or  in  the  translations,  it  is  another  matter.  The 
original  impulse  seems  to  have  come  from  the  De  Curialium  Mis- 
eriis  of  ^Eneas  Silvius  Piccolomini.  Although  this  latter  is  a  rhetor- 
ical exercise,  at  least  the  author  knew  what  he  was  talking  about;  he 
has  something  to  say,  and  gives  a  truthful,  however  exaggerated, 
account  of  conditions.  It  is  not  the  whole  truth,  but  there  is  some 
truth  there.  The  Menospredo,  on  the  other  hand,  was  written 
by  a  courtier  ingrained,  who  naturally  knew  nothing,  and  cared 
nothing,  about  the  country.  Again  it  is  a  rhetorical  exercise.  Gue- 
vara never  comes  down  to  unpleasant  details.  One  gathers  that  in 
comparison  with  the  existence  of  disembodied  angels  the  courtiers 
are  perhaps  unfortunate.  As  in  regard  to  another  of  Guevara's 
court  manuals  an  early  French  commentator  remarks:^  "to  con- 
form to  these  rules,  should  more  approximate  the  life  of  the  saints 
than  that  of  the  court,  because  these  instructions  are  all  theolog- 
ical and  holy,  more  proper  for  the  cloister  than  the  court."  The 
"  dispraise  "  is  consequently  really  a  celebration.  The  "  commenda- 
tion of  the  life  of  the  laboring  man"  is  equally  vague  and  equally 

*  Supplement  to  the  Catalogue  of  the  British  Museum,  under  Ouevara.  Sir  Sidney 
Lee,  (Dictionary  of  National  Biography)  gives  as  the  only  edition  one  issued  by 
Berthelet  and  anonymous.  This  I  have  been  unable  to  trace  as  none  of  the 
catalogues  of  Berthelet's  press  lists  it. 

*  This  has  been  issued  \^nth  notes  and  an  introduction  by  M.  Martinez  de  Burgos, 
Madrid  1915.    The  translation  I  have  never  seen. 

*  Moyens  legitimes  pour  parvenir  a  la  faueur  .  .  .  ou  le  reveille-matin  des 
courtisans.  Par  Sebastian  Hardy,  Paris  M.  DC.  XXIII.  Tesmoignagc  d'un 
autheur  celebre  de  ce  temps  en  la  recomiuandation  de  Dom  Antoine  de  Gue- 
vara. 


880  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

insincere.  The  book  is  written  in  a  style — "acute  and  very  clever, 
but  extremely  artificial  and  laden  with  loathsome  verbosity  and 
piquant  spices  of  antithesis,  paranomasia,  puns,  and  riming 
words.  .  .  .  He  is  a  very  tautological  author  and  even  Cicero 
can  pass  as  a  model  of  sobriety  at  his  side.  He  drowns  his  ideas 
in  a  sea  of  words."  ^  It  is  the  worst  form  of  pulpit  eloquence,  plati- 
tudinous, insincere  and  extremely  verbose.  And  it  is  this  book 
that  the  "vicar  of  hell"  chose  to  translate,  and  it  is  his  sole  re- 
maining literary  output! 

The  book  does,  however,  represent  a  tendency  of  the  time.  The 
theory  and  to  a  measure  the  practice  of  Cardinal  Bembo  had  placed 
great  stress  upon  the  medium  rather  than  on  the  matter  in  writing. 
The  Italians  valued  the  number  of  possible  ways  in  which  the 
thought  might  be  expressed,  rather  than  the  thought  itself.  Con- 
sequently the  employment  of  a  number  of  words  became  in  itself 
a  virtue.  The  idea  is  racked  on  a  framework  of  synonyms,  com- 
parisons, antitheses, — any  verbal  cleverness.  In  Itahan  literature 
this  tendency  is  represented  in  the  extreme  by  the  religious  works 
of  Pietro  Aretino,  books  which  were  then  applauded  and  which 
seem  so  sacrilegious  to  us  now.  The  worthy  Bishop  of  Guadix 
was  an  admirer,  evidently,  of  the  divagations  of  Aretino.  Bryan, 
through  the  French,  brings  this  type  of  work  to  England.  For- 
tunately England  was  not  ready  for  it.  Or  perhaps  the  troublous 
times  of  the  Regency  and  Mary  did  not  dispose  English  readers 
to  the  enjoyment  of  verbal  ingenuity.  And  fortunately,  perhaps, 
Bryan  himself  died  two  years  later,  before  his  personal  influence 
was  able  to  start  the  fashion.  At  any  rate  the  book  is  "  exceedingly 
rare"  now,  and  was  apparently  unknown  to  many  of  his  contem- 
poraries. 

For  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  therefore,  Spanish 
influence  is  very  slight.  Spanish  authors,  indeed,  such  as  Guevara 
and  Vives,  were  read  even  in  translations,  but  those  authors  them- 
selves represented  forces  that  were  not  typically  Spanish.  And 
the  language  was  not  studied.  Catharine  Parr,  for  example,  read 
both  of  these  men,  and  yet  was  unable  to  talk  to  the  Spanish  am- 
bassador. Nor  did  the  English  ambassadors  to  Spain  gain  an  in- 
sight into  Spanish  literature.     It  is,  therefore,  appropriate  that 

^  Menosprecio  de  Corte,  by  M.  Martinez  de  Burgos,  op.  cii.,  21-22. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    381 

the  best  known  poem  dealing  with  Spain  in  this  period  should  be 
Wyatt's  epigram  Tagus,  fare  well,^  which  expresses  his  love  for 
England. 

The  same  diflSculty  that  has  been  experienced  in  disentangling 
the  Spanish  influence  from  the  influence  of  Spanish  human- 
ism, is  found  in  differentiating  German  influence  from  that  of 
German  humanism.  Naturally  the  northern  countries  felt  the  hu- 
manistic impulse  at  approximately  the  same  time.  Therefore  the 
various  presses  of  Europe  poured  out  writings  in  Latin  based  upon 
the  great  classical  authors.  In  general,  the  main  characteristics 
of  these  are  the  same  wherever  found. ^  The  glory  of  humanism 
was  that  it  was  not  bound  by  national  limitations,  and  in  conse- 
quence appealed  to  an  European  public.  The  Utopia  was  read 
widely  on  the  Continent  and  the  Colloquia  in  England  was  the  most 
widely  read  book  of  its  age,  the  nationality  of  the  author  having 
nothing  to  do  with  the  case.  In  this  concert  of  Europe,  naturally, 
the  German  writers  took  their  part.  Latin  books  by  German 
authors  were  read  in  England,  as  were  Latin  books  by  Italian, 
Spanish,  French,  and  Dutch  authors.  But  such  books  were  not  read 
because  they  gave  the  national  point  of  view.  In  fact  their  appeal 
to  English  readers  was  in  inverse  proportion  to  the  expression  in 
them  of  their  nationality.^  For  example  the  reason  given  by  Pal- 
grave  for  his  translation  of  the  Acolastus  of  Gnapheus  is  to  teach 
the  Latin  by  means  of  English;  the  reason  why  that  particular 
comedy  was  chosen  is  * 

not  only  because  I  esteem  that  little  volume  to  be  a  very  curious  and  artiBcially 
compacted  nosegay,  gathered  out  of  the  most  excellent  and  odoriferous  sweet 
smelling  garden  of  the  most  pure  latin  authors,  but  also  because  the  author  thereof 
(as  far  as  I  can  learn)  is  yet  living,  thereby  I  would  be  glad  to  move  unto  the  hearts 
of  your  grace's  clerks,  of  which  your  realm  was  never  better  stored,  some  little 

1  The  Poenu  of  Sir  Thomas  Wiat,  op.  eit.,  i,  57. 

*  I  have  tried  to  suggest  a  differentiation  between  the  southern  and  the  northern 
humanism  on  pp.  261-262. 

'  The  whole  question  of  humanism  has  been  treated  in  Chapter  IV.  Here  this 
point  needs  emphasizing  because  in  the  very  valuable  and  very  scholarly  study  of 
C.  H.  Herford  The  Literary  Relatioiui  of  England  and  Germany  in  the  Sixteenth  Cen- 
tury the  sole  background  for  English  humanism  is  the  German.  And  at  the  same 
time  with  equal  emphasis  I  wish  to  express  my  admiration  for  his  work. 

*  Palgrave's  Epistle  to  the  Acolastus,  quoted  by  McConaughy  The  School  Drama, 
110. 


882  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

grain  of  honest  and  virtuous  envy,  which  on  my  part  to  confess  the  very  truth  unto 
your  grace,  hath  continually  in  all  the  time  of  these  my  poor  labors,  accompanied 
me,  and  stirred  me  onward  to  achieve  this  manner,  in  this  wise  by  me  attempted. 

Or,  this  may  be  illustrated  by  the  transformation  of  the  Narren- 
schiff  into  the  Ship  of  Fools. ^  The  one  product  of  humanism  that 
both  illustrates  the  German  spirit  and  historically  affected  the 
German  peoples  is  the  Epistolce  Obscurorum  Virorum.  Yet  this 
moved  no  English  writer  to  imitation,  although  we  know  that  it  was 
read  and  enjoyed  in  England.  And  in  this  connection  it  is  a  sig- 
nificant fact  that  the  first  English  translation  of  it  is  dated  1909. 
The  conclusion  seems  unavoidable  that  the  German  humanists 
who  affected  England  did  so,  not  because  they  were  German  but 
because  they  were  humanists. 

To  us,  familiar  with  the  intellectual  power  of  modem  Germany, 
this  seems  surprising.  It  is  necessary  to  reconstruct  our  ideas.  To 
the  gentlemen  of  the  Court  of  Henry  VIII,  central  Europe  from  the 
North  Sea  to  Switzerland  and  from  the  confines  of  Burgundy  going 
indefinitely  east  was  vaguely  labelled  Almaine.  Their  knowledge  ^ 
of  the  Flemish  cities,  with  which  they  had  business  dealings,  was 
naturally  more  precise.  In  addition  to  these,  the  Rhine  acted  as  a 
great  highway.  And  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  vast  central  re- 
gion indiscriminately  spoke  Dutch.  This  ignorance  of  Germany 
and  its  people  may  be  illustrated  again  by  the  various  modifica- 
tions of  the  Narrenschiff.  In  the  chapter.  Von  unnutzen  sivdiereuy 
the  fool  wanders  abroad.  As  Brandt  was  teaching  at  Basel  and 
was  writing  in  German,  the  universities  mentioned  are  German. 

So  sint  wir  zU  Lips,  Erfordt,  Wien, 
ZU  Heidelberg,  Mentz,  Basel  gstanden. 

Locher,  writing  in  Latin  but  still  at  Basel,  feels  that  the  list  is  ade- 
quate. But  the  Frenchman  Droyn,  writing  for  Frenchman,  sends 
his  fool  to  Vienna,  Erfurt,  Orleans,  Paris,  Poitiers,  Pavia,  Padua, 
Toulouse,  Louvain,  and  Montpellier,  and  adds  the  fact  that  he 
has  seen  the  cities  of  Rome,  London,  Naples,  Milan,  and  Avignon. 
For  Englishmen  Barclay  thus  renders  it. 

One  rermyth  to  almayne  another  vnto  fraunoe 
To  parys  padway  Lumbardy  or  spayne 
Another  to  Bonony,  Rome  or  orleance 

» P.  248-250.  *  Tyndale  uses  German  aa  a  substantive  in  1530.  N.  E.  D. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    383 

To  cayne,  to  Tolows,  Athenys  or  Colayne 

And  at  the  last  retoumyth  home  agayne 

More  ignorant,  blynder  and  gretter  folys 

Ihan  they  were  whan  they  firste  went  to  the  scolys 

In  deference  to  Brandt  he  mentions  Almaine,  but  the  only  place 
in  Germany  he  thinks  that  his  reader  will  know  is  Cologne !  ^  Po- 
litically Germany  was  not  important.  It  was  divided  into  a  num- 
ber of  small  principaUties,  united  loosely  by  the  Holy  Roman 
Empire.  Not  until  the  Reformation,  when  there  was  a  prospect 
of  uniting  the  Protestant  princes  in  a  revolt  against  the  Emperor, 
a  policy  that  gave  Anne  of  Cleves  to  the  list  of  English  queens, 
did  the  German  nation  figure  in  the  schemes  of  the  English  states- 
men. Germany,  in  anything  approaching  the  modern  sense,  did 
not  exist  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

But  from  this  it  must  not  be  inferred  that  there  was  no  dealing 
with  the  Germanic  peoples.  Quite  the  reverse  is  the  case.  The 
great  English  export  was  wool, — to  such  an  extent  that,  in  More's 
opinion,  by  limiting  agriculture  it  was  harmful  to  the  common- 
wealth. This  wool  was  largely  taken  by  the  Low  Countries.  Thus 
the  trade  relations  between  Englishmen  and  the  subjects  of  the 
Emperor  in  northern  Europ)e  were  very  close.  In  London  the 
Steelyard,  the  home  of  the  German  merchants,  was  one  of  the  great 
associations,  whose  prosperity  both  Wolsey  and  Cromwell  were 
accused  of  cherishing  at  the  expense  of  English  interests.  And  at 
the  reception  of  Anne  of  Cleves  the  German  merchants,  each  with 
his  servant,  stood  "fyrst  nexte  to  the  parke  pale  in  the  East  syde."  ^ 
In  fact  the  commercial  ties  between  England  and  the  Empire 
were  so  strong  that  the  King  had  to  reckon  with  them.  War  with 
Charles  meant  the  closing  to  English  ships  of  the  ports  of  Flanders, 
with  the  consequent  idleness,  penury,  and  misery  at  home.  Part 
of  Wolsey's  undoubted  unp>opularity  was  due  to  his  preference  for 
the  French  alliance,  and  Anne  Boleyn  was  hated  for  more  than 
moral  reasons. 

With  the  two  races  thus  brought  closely  into  contact,  the  nat- 
ural assumption  is  that  the  English  literature  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury would  be  strongly  marked  by  German  influence.    Actually 

'  Written  before  1508,  Basel  had  not  yet  become  famous  through  the  Froebcns. 
«  HaWt  ChronideM.  ed.  Whibley,  op.  cit..  ii,  «96. 


884  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  reverse  is  true.  An  occasional  anecdote  in  a  jest-book  is  bor- 
rowed from  German  literature,  occasionally  an  entire  book  is 
translated  and  dies  away  in  a  single  edition/  but  the  total  is  sur- 
prisingly little.  The  reasons  for  this  are  so  well  summed  up  by 
Professor  Herford  that  his  words  shall  be  borrowed.^ 

Whether,  in  this  strict  sense,  Germany,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  exercised 
any  'literary'  influence  at  all,  is  no  doubt  a  'question  to  be  asked. '  To  all  appear- 
ance, no  European  people  was  less  qualified  for  the  work.  To  the  most  strongly- 
marked  literary  tendency  of  the  time  it  gave  almost  no  response.  Everywhere 
else  the  demand  for  elegance  and  harmony  of  Uterary  form  was  being  raised  with 
continually  greater  insistence  and  authority;  in  Germany,  outside  the  sphere  of 
Humanists,  it  was  a  cry  in  the  wilderness,  which  the  most  approved  literary 
orthodoxy  ignored  with  impunity.  The  old  court-poetry  of  Thiiringen  and  the 
Upj)er  Rhine  was  as  completely  forgotten  as  that  of  Provence,  and  had  left  scarcely 
more  palpable  traces  behind;  nor  did  sixteenth  century  Germany,  like  France 
and  Spain,  and  even  England,  resume  the  broken  continuity  at  a  new  point  by 
the  aid  of  Petrarch.  No  school  of  Italianate  versifiers  endangered  the  popularity 
of  the  Narrenschiff,  or  ruffled  the  industrious  equanimity  of  Hans  Sachs.  To  a 
degree  unparalleled  elsewhere  in  Europe,  literature  had  become  plebeian.  The 
complete  decay  of  the  courts  as  centres  of  literary  culture, — a  decay  against  which 
only  here  and  there  a  Mathilde  of  WUrtemberg  raised  a  forlorn  protest, — had 
thrown  literature  into  the  hands  of  a  bourgeois  class  not  only  itself  lacking  in  the 
old  courtly  graciousness  and  refinement,  but  indisposed  by  a  century  of  life  and 
death  feuds  with  the  leagued  nobility  to  revive  its  memory;  and  the  antagonism 
was  heightened  by  internal  revolutions,  which,  with  rare  exceptions  (as  at  Nlim- 
berg),  put  every  town  in  the  hands  of  its  least  cultivated  class.  It  was  a  litera- 
ture of  the  workshop  and  the  stall,  a  literature  of  men  habitually  familiar  to 
brutality,  plain-spoken  to  grossness,  drastic  in  their  ridicule,  ferocious  in  their 
earnestness,  not  without  sterling  honesty,  but  wanting  in  the  grace  of  good  man- 
ners, in  chivalry,  in  subtle  and  delicate  intellect. 

In  such  a  society  the  delicate  and  artificial  forms  of  literature 
have  no  place;  its  innate  power  finds  expression  in  brutal  plain- 
speaking  and  in  satire.^ 

Yet  from  such  a  society  came  an  influence  that  was  to  mould 
English  literature  and  English  Ufe  from  that  day  to  this, — the 

^  Caxton's  Reynard  the  Fox  (1481)  had  a  second  edition  1489  (?)  later.  The 
Parson  of  Kalenborow  survives  in  a  single  slightly  mutilated  copy  in  the  Bod- 
leian.     Herford,  op.  cit.,  275. 

*  Herford,  op.  cit..  Introduction,  xix-xx. 

•This  phase  has  been  so  thoroughly  done  by  Professor  Herford  that  there 
would  be  no  gain  in  repetition.  The  Uterary  values  of  the  Reformation,  how- 
ever, with  more  discretion  than  has  the  present  writer,  he  refuses  to  discuss. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    385 

Reformation.  Such  a  society,  it  may  be  argued,  formed  a  virgin 
soil  peculiarly  suitable  to  the  growth  of  one  dominating  idea. 
There  was  lacking  the  divergent  pull  of  equal  forces  (to  change 
the  metaphor)  that  rendered  the  humanism  of  Erasmus  static  and 
not  dynamic.^  The  whole  force  of  the  people  could  be  directed 
along  one  line.  Again,  the  political  condition  of  the  Empire,  its 
division  into  a  number  of  independent  principalities,  was  advan- 
tageous to  the  spread  of  the  new  doctrine.  Whereas  a  strong  cen- 
tral authority,  naturally  inclined  toward  the  old,  would  have  had 
both  the  power  and  the  inclination  to  stamp  out  the  heresy, — as 
was  the  fate  of  Lollardism — ^by  the  constitution  of  the  Empire  it 
was  possible  for  Luther  to  win  each  individual  unit  separately; 
thereupon,  each  unit  won  affected  its  neighbors.  And  lastly, 
throughout  their  history,  the  Germans  have  shown  themselves 
susceptible  to  an  intellectual  appeal.  With  them  conviction  leads 
logically  to  action.  A  brilliant  theorist,  like  Treitschke,  finds  his 
ideas  transformed  into  deeds.  For  the  sake  of  contrast  compare 
the  attitude  of  the|ltalians  towards  an  equally  brilliant  thinker. 
There  is  very  little  question  that  Macchiavelli  based  the  generali- 
zations in  II  Principe  upon  the  conduct  of  the  princes  around  him. 
Yet,  even  so,  the  book  affected  only  the  occasional  individual;  it 
did  not  change  the  philosophy  of  the  nation.  The  relations  be- 
tween the  Medici  and  the  Florentines  show  no  marked  influence 
of  one  of  the  most  brilliant  books  ever  written.  In  Germany  it  is 
quite  otherwise.  Luther,  alone  in  his  study,  could  energize  a  peo- 
ple; his  personality  was  powerful,  because  of  the  people  behind 
him, — solely  because  of  the  people  behind  him.  The  feature  of  the 
Reformation  in  Germany  is  the  readiness  of  the  German  people 
to  respond  to  his  appeal. 

In  comparison  with  the  German  Reformation  that  in  England 
seems  confused  and  slow  in  movement.  There  was  no  great  na- 
tional impulse  toward  reform.  The  process  continued  through 
the  entire  century  and  seems  many  times  to  have  been  determined 
by  external  pressure  rather  than  inward  conviction.  It  is  hard 
to  believe  that  the  policy  of  either  Henry  or  Elizabeth  was  more 
than  opportunist,  yet  each  was  a  popular  sovereign.  Cromwell  \s 
ministry  is  described  as  a  "reign  of  terror,"  but  the  most  serious 

»  Pp.  291-294. 


S86  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

rebellion  in  the  century,  The  Pilgrimage  of  Grace,  was  directed, 
not  against  the  king,  but  against  his  evil  counsellors.  To  the 
historian  it  seems  a  number  of  times  as  though  Henry  would  lose 
his  throne,  yet  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  died  peacefully  in  his  bed, 
just  after  having  executed  the  Earl  of  Surrey  and  with  the  great 
Duke  of  Norfolk  condemned  to  death.  Neither  his  worst  acts 
of  tyranny  nor  the  machinations  of  Reginald  Pole  could  unite 
against  him  an  effective  opposition.  Nor  on  the  other  hand  could 
the  reformers,  even  though  led  by  the  unscrupulous  audacity  of 
Cromwell,  force  a  continuous  policy.  It  was  in  1539  that  ParUa- 
ment  passed  the  celebrated  Act  of  the  Six  Articles,  "the  Whip 
v/ith  Six  Strings,"  by  which  in  London  alone  five  hundred  Protest- 
ants were  indicted.  As  the  external  policy  favored  a  rapproche- 
ment with  Spain,  or  dictated  sympathy  with  the  Lutherans,  the 
internal  situation  was  adjusted.  The  result  was  continual  vacil- 
lation. 

The  composition  of  the  nation  was  not  uniform.  Opinions 
varied  from  that  of  Forrest,  who  believed  in  the  Cathohc  dogma 
and  in  papal  supremacy,  and  was  burned  in  1538,  to  that  of 
Frith,  who  denied  both  the  Catholic  dogma  and  papal  supremacy, 
and  was  burned  in  1533.  Between  these  extremes  there  was  every 
shade  of  belief.  And  the  divisions  are  not  mutually  exclusive.  In 
all  probability  the  great  majority  of  the  nation  accepted  the  doc- 
trines and  the  teachings  of  the  Church,  but  in  many  cases  this  was 
modified  by  opposing  conceptions.  The  most  important  of  these 
was  the  question  of  papal  supremacy,  with  all  which  that  implies. 
This  was  the  probable  state  of  mind  of  the  King  himself.  In  his 
book  against  Luther,  Assertio  Septem  Sacramentorum  1521,  he  mus- 
ters the  traditional  arguments  in  favor  of  the  Catholic  dogma.^  In 
spite  of  Luther's  opinion  that  the  author  is  Lee,  there  is  little  ques- 
tion that  Henry  wrote  it.  Traditionally  he  was  educated  for  the 
Church,  and  he  enjoyed  theological  disputes  with  Tunstall,  Lee, 
More,  etc.  The  arguments  therein  used  are  neither  very  profound, 
nor  very  convincing,  nor  necessarily  original.  He  was  speak- 
ing for  the  Church  and  by  the  Church  he  was  recognized  as  De- 
fensor Fidei.    But  from  this  it  does  not  follow  that  he  was  not  sin- 

*  This  has  been  re-edited  (1908),-  with  an  introduction  and  critical  apparatus 
by  Rev.  Louis  O'Donovan,  S.  T.  L.  and  with  a  preface  by  Cardinal  Gibbons  of 
Baltimore. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    387 

cere.  What  he  stated  is  what  the  immense  majority  of  educated 
men  beUeved.  And  he  continued  to  beHeve.  The  Act  of  the  Six 
Articles,  eighteen  years  later,  practically  affirms  the  theological 
positions  of  the  Assertio.  So  far  as  dogma  is  concerned,  the  evi- 
dence is  that  Henry  Uved  and  died  beUeving  in  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic faith.i 

But  there  is  part  of  the  Assertio  with  which  later  the  author 
could  not  have  been  in  such  agreement.  The  first  two  chapters  de- 
nounce Luther  in  scathing  terms  for  denying  the  authority  of  the 
Pope.^    It  is  to  such  passages  that  Roper  refers  in  his  Ufe  of  More.' 

I  will  not  wrong  the  Bishop  of  Rome  *  so  much,  as  troublesomely,  or  carefully 
to  dispute  his  Right,  as  if  It  were  a  Matter  doubtful.  .  .  For  he  camiot  deny,  but 
that  all  the  Faithfid  honour  and  acknowledge  the  sacred  Roman  see  for  their  Mother 
and  Supreme,  nor  does  Distance  of  Place  or  Dangers  in  the  Way  hinder  Access 
thereunto.  .  .  Truly,  if  any  will  look  upon  antient  Monuments,  or  read  the  His- 
tories of  former  Times,  he  may  easily  find  that  since  the  Conversion  of  the  World, 
all  Churches  in  the  Christian  World  have  been  obedient  to  the  See  of  Rome.  We 
find,  that,  though  the  Empire  was  translated  to  the  Grecians,  yet  did  they  still  own, 
and  obey  the  Supremacy  of  the  Church,  and  See  of  Rome,  except  when  they  were 
in  any  turbulent  Schism. 

More  had  been  summoned  before  the  Councillors. 

But  in  thende,  when  they  sawe  they  could  by  no  manner  of  perswasions  re- 
move him  from  his  former  determinacion,  then  beganne  they  more  terribly  to 
touche  him,  telling  him  that  the  Kinges  highnes  had  given  them  in  command- 
ment yf  they  could  by  noe  gentleness  wynne  him,  in  his  name  with  his  great  in- 
gratitude to  charge  him;  that  never  was  there  servant  to  his  sovereygne  so  vil- 
lanous,  nor  subject  to  his  prince  so  trayterous,  as  he.  For  he,  by  his  subtill  syn- 
ister  sleyghtes  most  unnaturally  procuringe  and  provokinge  him  to  sett  forthe 
a  booke  of  the  Assertion  of  the  Seaven  Sacraments  and  maynteynance  of  the 
Popes  Auctoritye,  had  caused  him,  to  his  dishonor  throughoute  all  Christen- 
dome,  to  put  a  sworde  in  the  Popes  hande  to  fight  agaynst  himselfe.  WTien 
they  had  thus  layed  forthe  all  the  terrors  they  could  ymagine  agaynste  him,  My 
lordes,  quothe  he,  these  terrors  be  arguments  for  children  and  not  for  me.  But 
to  answere  to  that  wherwith  you  doe  chieflye  bunlen  me,  I  believe  the  Kinges 
highnes  of  his  honor  will  never  lay  that  to  my  chardge,  for  none  is  there  that 
canne  in  that  poynte  say  in  my  excuse  more  to  me  then  his  highnes  himselfe, 

'  For  the  historical  background  the  student  is  referred  to  A  History  of  the 
English  Church  in  the  Sixteenth  Century  from  Henry  VIII  to  Mary,  by  James  Gaird- 
ner. 

*0'Donovan's  translation,  op.  cii.,  202. 

*  Roper's  Life,  ed.  Sampson,  op.  cil.,  246. 

*  For  some  reason  the  translation  renders  Pontifex  by  the  phrase  Bishop  of 
Rome;  I  have  not  retained  the  italics. 


S88  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

who  right  well  knoweth  that  I  was  never  procurer  nor  councellor  of  his  majestie 
thereunto;  but  after  it  was  finished,  by  his  graces  appoyntment  and  consent  of 
the  makers  of  the  same,  I  was  only  a  sorter  out  and  placer  of  the  principall  mat- 
ters therein  conteyned.  Wherin  when  I  founde  the  Popes  Auctoritye  highlye 
advanced  and  with  stronge  arguments  mightily  defended,  I  sayed  unto  his  grace, 
I  must  put  your  highnes  in  rememberance  of  one  thinge,  and  that  is  this:  the 
Pope  as  your  grace  knowethe,  is  a  prince  as  you  are,  and  in  league  with  all  other 
Christyan  princes.  It  may  hereafter  soe  fall  out  that  your  grace  and  he  maye 
varye  upon  some  poyntes  of  the  league,  whereupon  may  growe  breache  of  amitye 
and  warre  betwene  you  bothe.  I  think  it  best  therfore,  that  the  place  be  amended, 
and  his  auctoritye  more  sclenderly  touched.  Nay,  quothe  his  grace,  that  shall 
it  not;  wee  are  soe  much  bounden  unto  the  See  of  Rome,  that  we  cannot  doe  too 
much  honor  to  yt.  Then  did  I  further  put  him  in  remembraunce  of  the  Statute 
of  Premunyre,  wherby  a  good  parte  of  the  Popes  pasturall  cure  here  was  pared 
awaye.  To  that  answered  his  highnes:  Whatsoever  impediment  be  to  the  con- 
trarye,  we  will  sett  forthe  that  auctorytie  to  the  uttermost;  for  we  receyved  from 
that  See  of  Roome  our  crowne  Emperiall:  which,  till  his  grace  with  his  owne  mouthe 
told  it  me,  I  never  harde  of  before. 

The  contingency  foreseen  by  More  of  course  occurred.  Henry,  in 
his  desire  for  a  legitimate  male  heir,  wished  a  divorce  from  Kath- 
arine of  Aragon,  in  order  to  marry  Anne  Boleyn.  This  required 
a  papal  dispensation.  There  was  nothing  unusual  in  such  a  re- 
quest. Permission  had  been  granted  in  analogous  cases,  to  Louis 
XII  of  France,  to  Suffolk,  the  King's  brother-in-law,  and  to  Mar- 
garet, his  sister.  The  factor  that  differentiated  Henry's  request 
from  the  others  was  that  it  was  Katharine's  nephew,  the  Emp)eror, 
that  was  all-powerful  with  the  Pope.  The  latter  therefore  played 
for  time,  appointed  Campeggio  legate  to  try  the  case,  but  withheld 
from  him  the  necessary  authority,  and  protracted  the  trial.  This 
conduct,  however  natural  under  the  circumstances,  produced  in 
England  results  in  two  different  ways.  The  King  under  the  di- 
rection, or,  as  it  has  been  said,  at  the  suggestion,  of  Cromwell, 
assumed  the  headship  of  the  English  Church.  By  a  clever  but 
unscrupulous  legal  fiction,  that  the  clergy  had  been  guilty  against 
the  statute  of  'praemunire,  he  forced  the  Convocation  both  to  pay 
a  fine  and  also  to  acknowledge  his  supremacy.  In  the  second  place, 
the  nation,  as  had  been  foreseen  by  Wolsey,  was  offended  in  its 
national  consciousness  at  having  their  sovereign  cited  to  appear  be- 
fore a  foreign  tribunal.  By  skillfully  fanning  the  jealousy  between 
the  Church  and  the  State,  by  stressing  the  imposition  of  the  An- 
nates and  the  injustice  of  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  Cromwell  was 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    389 

able  to  manipulate  the  Commons.  The  result  was  to  remove  the 
last  constitutional  barrier  between  Henry  and  despotism.  This  was 
gradually  accomplished  through  the  decade.  In  his  attack  upon  the 
temporal  power  of  the  Church  in  England,  Henry  at  least  winked 
at  opinions  theologically  heretical.  Until  Tyndale  attacked  the 
divorce,  he  was  not  persecuted;  Barnes  was  encouraged  to  return; 
and  there  is  nothing  unlikely  in  the  story  that  Henry  approved 
of  the  Supplication  of  Beggars.  We  must  grant  with  Lecky  that 
persecution  does  change  opinions;  but  to  accomplish  this  the  perse- 
cution must  be  relentless  and  continuous.  It  is  also  true,  however, 
that  persecution,  by  enabling  the  persecuted  to  prove  their  faith, 
increases  that  faith.  As  Henry  in  his  war  with  the  Church  was 
forced  at  times  to  tolerate  dissent,  it  is  the  latter  that  was  accom- 
plished in  this  reign.  Consequently  the  spasmodic  attempt  to 
suppress  heresy  was  unavailing. 

The  term  "heresy"  must  be  understood  to  mean  any  opinion 
not  sanctioned  by  authority.  In  the  sixteenth  century  the  State 
felt  itself  intrusted  with  the  preservation  of  dogma,  just  as  in  the 
twentieth  the  State  feels  itself  intrusted  with  the  preservation  of 
morality,  and  this  belief  was  not  peculiar  to  any  one  nation,  party, 
or  creed.  Frith's  position,  that  belief  in  the  doctrine  of  transub- 
stantiation  was  the  concern  of  the  individual  only,  is  an  anachron- 
istically  modern  note,  quite  at  variance  with  the  conceptions  of  the 
age.  The  party  of  the  heretics  was  necessarily  composed  of  indef- 
inite factions  of  many  shades  of  opinion.  Many  of  the  "  martyrs," 
chronicled  by  Foxe,  seem  to  the  modern  reader  to  belong  to  that 
type  which  is  constitutionally  opposed  to  any  authority.  Some 
of  them  call  to  mind  the  heretic,  whipped  by  Sir  Thomas  More,  who 
manifested  his  zeal  for  reform  by  inverting  women's  skirts  over 
their  heads  as  they  knelt  in  church.  In  other  cases,  acts  were  com- 
mitted that  seem  caused  by  hysteria,  induced  by  the  certainty  of 
horrible  punishment.  All  this  may  be  granted.  But  there  was 
more  than  this  to  the  reform  movement.  Lollardism  had  died  out, 
but  it  had  left  at  least  a  predisposition  to  criticise  the  Church. 
Skelton's  phrase,  "lanterns  of  light,"  suggests  a  connection.^    Hu- 

>  The  iMnihome  of  Light  was  a  Lollard  publication;  yet  Skelton  was  certainly 
a  good  Romanist.  Cf.  passage  quoted  p.  1S4.  But  the  phrase  was  preserved  without 
it3  religious  significance,  since  Puttenhain  (Arber's  Reprints,  76)  uses  it  in  a 
purely  Uterary  sense. 


390  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

manism,  also,  as  it  had  developed  the  rationalistic  faculty,  had 
accompUshed  the  same  result.  The  attacks  of  Erasmus  on  the 
clergy  are  as  bitter  as  those  of  the  reformers.^  Moreover,  the 
Church  was  open  to  attack.  With  the  Borgia  or  Julius  II,  as 
Pope,  and  with  Wolsey  as  Cardinal,  reUgion  as  a  spiritual  force 
was  not  strong.  Granting  that  the  abuses  found  in  the  Comperta 
are  grossly  exaggerated  by  scoundrels  for  mercenary  ends,  if  the 
condition  of  the  Church  were  as  pure  as  its  present  apologists  would 
have  us  believe,  we  are  confronted  with  the  anomalous  situation 
that  corruption  in  high  places  had  left  the  lower  ranks  undefiled. 
This  is  contrary  to  human  experience  in  other  matters,  and  it  is 
contrary  also  to  the  opinion  of  that  age  as  expressed  in  literature. 
And  it  is  as  much  an  error  to  assume  that  the  purity  of  the  Observ- 
ants and  the  Carthusians  represents  the  norm  as  it  is  to  believe  with 
Bale  and  Foxe  that  the  followers  of  the  Church  were  a  pestiferous 
brood.  Also  it  must  be  remembered  that  in  the  suppression  of  the 
monasteries,  an  immense  amount  of  property  went  into  the  hands 
of  the  king  and  through  him  to  the  great  nobles.  Thus  the  ques- 
tions of  belief  in  certain  dogmas  was  bound  up  together  with  prop- 
erty rights  among  the  lords  and  freedom  from  ecclesiastical  taxes 
among  the  commons.  The  result  was  that  in  opposition  to  the 
Church  the  extremes  were  united,  of  men  fired  by  a  holy  love  of 
purity  and  of  men  moved  merely  by  a  mercenary  love  of  property. 

The  literary  effect  of  such  a  condition  was  that  the  whole  nation 
was  resolved  into  a  debating  union.  Each  side,  firmly  believing 
in  the  justice  of  its  cause,  came  into  the  forum  of  public  opinion. 
For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  English  literature  the  pros  and 
cons  were  argued  at  length.  No  longer  was  it  a  question,  as  with 
Wycliffe,  of  answering  by  suppression.  The  printing-press  had 
nulUfied  such  measures,  and  the  money  spent  by  Tunstall  to  buy 
up  and  destroy  Tyndale's  Bibles  went  only  to  pay  for  new  and 
better  ones.^  Forcible  suppression  was  also  tried,  and  also  failed. 
In  1521  Leo  issued  a  bull  ordering  Luther's  books  to  be  prohibited. 
Five  years  later  Tunstall  issued  the  proclamation  against  Tyndale's 
New  Testament.^ 

1  Cf.  p.  35-36. 

*  The  story  is  entertainingly  told  by  Foxe,  Ads  and  Monuments,  fourth  edition 
(1583),  p.  1019.  Unreliable  though  he  may  be,  Foxe  is  a  mine  of  information 
for  the  writers  of  this  period.  ^  Quoted  by  Foxe,  op.  cit.,  1017. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    391 

By  the  duty  of  our  pastoral  office,  we  are  bound  diligently  with  all  our  power, 
to  foresee,  prouide  for,  roote  out,  and  putte  away  all  those  things,  which  seme 
to  tend  to  the  perill  &  danger  of  our  subiects,  and  specially  the  destruction  of 
theyr  soules.  Wherefore  we  hauing  understanding  by  the  reporte  of  diuers 
credible  persons,  &  also  by  the  euident  apparaimce  of  the  matter,  that  many 
children  of  iniquity  mainteiners  of  Luthers  sect,  blinded  through  extreme  wicked- 
ness wandring  from  the  way  of  truth  and  the  Catholicke  fayth,  craftely  haue 
translated  the  new  Testament  into  our  English  tongue,  entermedling  therwith 
many  heretical  Articles  and  erronious  opinions,  pernicious  and  oflfensiue,  seducing 
the  simple  people  attempting  by  their  wicked  &  peruerse  interpretations,  to 
prophanate  the  maiesty  of  the  Scripture,  which  hetherto  hath  remayned  un- 
defiled,  &  craftely  to  abuse  the  most  holy  word  of  God,  &  the  true  sence  of  the 
same:  of  the  whiche  translation  there  are  manye  bookes  imprinted,  some  with 
gloses  and  some  without,  conteining  in  the  English  toung  that  pestiferous  and 
most  pernicious  poyson  dispersed  throughout  all  our  dioces  of  London  in  great 
number:  which  truly  without  it  be  spedely  foresene,  without  doubt,  will  con- 
taminate and  infect  the  flocke  committed  unto  us,  with  most  deadly  poyson 
and  heresy,  to  the  grieuous  peril  &  danger  of  the  soules  committed  to  our  charge, 
and  the  oflfence  of  Gods  diuine  maiesty.  .  .    . 

Consequently  under  the  pain  of  excommunication  and  of  incurring 
the  suspicion  of  heresy  all  were  urged  to  deliver  up  all  copies  of  the 
New  Testament.  During  the  years  following  appeared  lists  of 
prohibited  books,  consisting  of  the  works  of  Luther,  Tyndale,  Fish, 
and  the  reformers  generally.  The  constant  recurrence  of  such 
lists  and  the  increasing  length  of  them  is  a  proof  of  the  failure  of 
such  a  policy.  The  third  method  of  combatting  the  growth  of 
heretical  opinion  is  more  interesting  in  its  modernity.  By  a  deed 
dated  March  7th,  1527,^  More  is  given  permission  to  read  these 
forbidden  publications  in  order  that  he  may  reply  to  them  in  the 
vernacular.  Thus  were  the  conservative  forces  in  England  mar- 
shalled to  repel  the  foreign  invader. 

Actually  the  majority  of  these  works  were  foreign  only  in  that 
they  were  printed  in  Germany,  and  it  may  be  granted  in  that  Luth- 
er's works  had  inspired  analogous  thinking.  They  were  written  by 
English  exiles,  attracted  there  by  the  freedom  from  p)ersecution, 
but  inflamed  with  love  for  their  native  land  and  with  an  intense 
desire  to  see  her  in  the  right  way.  But  they  were  not  by  any  means 
mere  mouthpieces  of  Luther.  On  important  dogmas  they  did  not 
hesitate  to  differ  from  him.  Tyndale's  position  in  regard  to  the 
Sacrament  is  not  the  Lutheran  consubstantiation, — he  regards  it 

*  Dr.  A.  I.  Taft,  the  Apology  afSir  Thomcu  More,  dates  this  a  year  later. 


89«  ^  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

as  being  memorial  only, — and  Frith's  position  is  that  it  is  a  matter 
for  individual  judgment.  Nor  even  is  the  New  Testament  merely 
a  translation  of  Luther's.  Tyndale  used  the  Greek  of  Erasmus,  the 
Latin  version  of  Erasmus,  the  Vulgate,  as  well  as  the  Lutheran 
version,  although  it  is  true  that  the  glosses  in  the  first  edition  are 
verbatim  translated  from  those  of  Luther.  Consequently  there 
was  no  uniformity  of  doctrine.  In  fact  this  is  one  of  the  points 
raised  by  More  against  the  reformers,  that  on  important  questions 
they  differed  so  radically  among  themselves.  Therefore,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  Reformation  movement  as  due  to  Germanic  influence, 
it  must  be  remembered  that  it  was  principally  the  product  of 
Englishmen  who  for  political  reasons  were  living  abroad. 

As  was  apparent  in  the  prohibition  of  Tunstall,  the  first  and  most 
important  of  such  works  was  Tyndale's  version  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  English.^  The  appearance  of  this  book  in  England  gave 
rise  to  the  most  important  debate  of  the  period,  that  between  Tyn- 
dale and  Sir  Thomas  More.  The  assumption  is  sometimes  made,  as 
for  example  by  Swift  in  his  Tale  of  a  Tub,  that  the  objection  was 
against  any  English  version.  But  this  is  emphatically  denied  by 
More.^ 

Nor  I  never  yet  heard  any  reason  laid  why  it  were  not  convenient  to  have  the 
Bible  translated  into  the  English  tongue;  but  all  those  reasons,  seemed  they  never 
so  gay  and  glorious  at  the  first  sight,  yet  when  they  were  well  examined,  they 
might  in  effect,  for  aught  that  I  can  see,  as  well  be  laid  against  the  holy  writers 
that  wrote  the  Scripture  in  the  Hebrew  tongue,  and  against  the  blessed  evangelists 
that  wrote  the  Scripture  in  Greek,  and  against  all  those  in  like  wise  that  trans- 
lated it  out  of  every  of  those  tongues  into  Latin,  as  to  their  charge  that  would 
well  and  faithfully  translate  it  out  of  Latin  into  our  English  tongue.  For  as 
for  that  our  tongue  is  called  barbarous,  is  but  a  fantasy.  For  so  is,  as  every 
learned  man  knoweth,  every  strange  language  to  other.  And  if  they  would 
call  it  barren  of  words,  there  is  no  doubt  but  it  is  plenteous  enough  to  express 
our  minds  in  anything  whereof  one  man  hath  used  to  speak  with  another.  Now 
as  touching  the  difficulty  which  a  translator  findeth  in  expressing  well  and  lively 
the  sentence  of  his  author,  which  is  hard  alway  to  do  so  surely  but  that  she  shall 
sometime  minish  either  of  the  sentence  or  of  the  grace  that  it  beareth  in  the  former 
tongue,  that  point  hath  lain  in  their  light  that  have  translated  the  scripture  al- 
ready either  out  of  Greek  into  Latin,  or  out  of  Hebrew  in  any  of  them  both,  as, 
by  many  translations  which  we  read  already,  to  them  that  be  learned  appeareth. 

*  The  standard  biography  of  Tyndale  is  by  the  Rev.  R.  Demaus,  M.  A.,  pub- 
lished for  the  Religious  Tract  Society. 

*I  am  quoting  the  modernized  version  vaed  by  Taft,  op.  eii. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    393 

So  according  to  More, — and  he  is  the  official  mouthpiece  of  the 
Roman  Church  in  England, — there  is  no  reason  in  the  nature  of 
the  language  why  the  Bible  should  not  be  translated.  He  feels, 
however,  that  there  may  be  a  grave  moral  danger.^ 

And  also  though  Holy  Scripture  be,  as  ye  said  whilere,  a  medicine  for  him  that 
is  sick,  and  food  for  him  that  is  whole;  yet  sith  there  is  many  a  body  sore  soul- 
sick  that  taketh  himself  for  whole,  and  in  Holy  Scripture  is  an  whole  feast  of  so 
much  divers  viand  that  after  the  affection  and  state  of  sundry  stomachs  one  may 
take  harm  by  the  selfsame  that  shall  do  another  good,  and  sick  folk  often  have 
such  a  corrupt  tallage  in  their  taste  that  they  most  like  the  meat  that  is  most 
unwholesome  for  them;  it  were  not  therefore,  as  methinketh,  unreasonable  that 
the  ordinary,  whom  God  hath  in  the  diocese  appointed  for  the  chief  physician 
to  discern  between  the  whole  and  the  sick,  and  between  disease  and  disease,  should 
after  his  wisdom  and  discretion  appoint  every  body  their  part,  as  he  should  per- 
ceive to  be  good  and  wholesome  for  them.  .  .  .  And  thus  may  the  bishop  order 
the  Scripture  in  our  hands  with  as  good  reason  as  the  father  doth  by  his  dis- 
cretion appoint  which  of  his  children  may  for  his  sadness  keep  a  knife  to  cut  his 
meat,  and  which  shall  for  his  wantonness  have  his  knife  taken  from  him  for  cutting 
of  his  fingers.  And  thus  am  I  bold  without  prejudice  of  other  men's  judgment 
to  show  you  my  mind  in  this  matter,  how  the  Scripture  might  without  great  i>eril 
and  not  without  great  profit  be  brought  into  our  tongue,  and  taken  to  lay  men 
and  women  both,  not  yet  meaning  thereby  but  that  the  whole  Bible  might  for 
my  mind  be  suffered  to  be  spread  abroad  in  English. 

That  the  danger,  foreseen  by  More,  of  a  divided  Christendom  was 
real,  the  history  of  the  succeeding  centuries,  even  to  the  present 
year  of  grace,  is  eloquent  testimony.  Such  division,  doubtless, 
would  have  been  avoided  were  the  Scriptures  to  be  read  only  under 
expert  advice,  and  by  readers  willing  to  accept  the  authorized  in- 
terpretation. So  great  a  sacrifice  of  individual  belief  More  himself 
was  willing  to  make,  but  clearly  this  was  not  the  attitude  of  the 
age.  The  spirit  of  rationalism  demanded  that  the  reasoning  faculty 
should  be  satisfied,  and  where  the  interpretations  of  the  Church 
were  at  variance  with  the  new  discoveries,  since  the  Bible  was  in- 
fallible, other  interpretations  must  be  found.  Had  the  Church 
been  perfectly  flexible,  adapting  its  views  to  the  expanding  age, 
More's  solution  might  have  been  practical.  Actually  the  Church 
is  the  most  conservative  of  all  human  institutions;  it  glories  in 
traditional  pwints  of  view.  And  by  the  Copernican  hypothesis  the 
rational  explanation  of  the  astronomical  peculiarities  in  tlie  valley 

» Taft,  op.  (fit. 


394  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

of  Ajalon  is  quite  different  from  the  traditional  one,  based  upon 
the  Ptolemaic  system.  The  natural  result  of  such  a  condition  is 
that  More's  supervising  bishop  would  actually  have  been  futile. 

More,  moreover,  assumed  that  there  is  but  one  correct  interpre- 
tation of  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  words,  namely  that  sanctioned  by 
the  Church.  Tyndale  naturally  denied  this  and  in  his  translation 
used  others.  Equally  naturally  followed  the  condemnation  of  the 
book  and  its  spectacular  burning.    This  was  defended  by  More.^ 

It  is,  quoth  I,  to  me  great  marvel  that  any  good  Christian  man  having  drop 
of  wit  in  his  head,  would  anything  marvel  or  complain  of  the  burning  of  that 
book  if  he  know  the  matter.  .  .  .  But  now  the  cause  why  he  changed  the  name  of 
charity,  and  of  the  Church,  and  of  priesthood,  is  no  very  great  difficulty  to  per- 
ceive. For  sith  Luther  and  his  fellows,  among  other  their  damnable  heresies, 
have  one  that  all  our  salvation  standeth  in  faith  alone,  and  toward  our  salvation 
nothing  force  of  good  works;  therefore  it  seemeth  that  he  laboreth  of  purpose  to 
minish  the  reverent  mind  that  men  bear  to  charity,  and  therefore  he  changeth 
that  name  of  holy  virtuous  affection  into  the  bare  name  of  love,  common  to  the 
virtuous  love  that  men  beareth  to  God,  and  to  the  lewd  love  that  is  between  fleck 
and  his  make.  And  for  because  that  Luther  utterly  denieth  the  very  Catholic 
Church  in  earth,  and  saith  that  the  church  of  Christ  is  but  an  unknown  congrega- 
tion of  some  folk.  .  .  having  the  right  faith  (which  he  calleth  only  his  own  new- 
forged  faith);  therefore  Hitchens  (Tyndale)  in  the  New  Testament  cannot  abide 
the  name  of  the  Church,  but  tumeth  it  into  the  name  of  congregation,  willing 
that  it  should  seem  to  Englishmen  either  that  Christ  in  the  Gospel  had  never 
spoken  of  the  Church,  or  else  that  the  Church  were  but  such  a  congregation  aa 
they  might  have  occasion  to  say  that  a  congregation  of  such  some  heretics  were 
the  church  that  God  spake  of.  Now  as  touching  the  cause  why  he  changed  the 
name  of  priest  into  "seniour",  ye  must  understand  that  Luther  and  his  adherents 
hold  this  heresy,  that  holy  order  is  nothing;  and  that  a  priest  is  nothing  else  but 
a  man  chosen  to  preach,  and  that  by  that  choice  to  that  office  he  is  priest  by  and 
by  without  any  more  ado,  and  no  priest  again  whensoever  the  people  choose  an- 
other in  his  place;  and  that  a  priest's  office  is  nothing  but  to  preach.  For  as  for 
saying  Mass,  and  hearing  of  confession,  and  absolution  thereupon  to  be  given, — 
all  this  he  saith  that  every  man,  woman,  and  child  may  do  as  well  as  any  priest. 
Now  doth  Hitchens,  therefore,  to  set  forth  this  opinion  withal,  after  his  master's 
heresy,  put  away  the  name  of  priest  in  his  translation  as  though  priesthood  were 
nothing. 

Aside  from  the  rather  unpleasant  implications,  this  passage  is  a 
fair  statement  of  the  case.  It  is  merely  the  question  of  the  conno- 
tations of  the  words.  Tyndale,  in  the  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man 
and  in  the  Wicked  Mammon,  consequently  retorted  that  the  words 

1  More,  Works  1557,  The  Dialogue,  220-22;  modernized  by  Taft. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    395 

church,  charity,  priest,  etc.,  had  become  so  perverted  in  their  con- 
notations by  the  conduct  of  the  CathoUc  Church  and  her  ministers, 
that  they  failed  to  give  the  sense  of  the  Scripture.  And  he  illus- 
trated his  position  by  violent  attacks  against  the  Church.  More 
replied  in  the  very  lengthy  Confutation  in  which  the  first  of  Tyn- 
dale's  positions  was  explained  and  answered.  He  based  his  argu- 
ment for  the  traditional  interpretation  upon  the  doctrine  of  the 
"unwritten  verities,"  namely  that  while  all  in  the  Bible  is  true,  all 
that  is  true  is  not  in  the  Bible,  that  the  Christ  transmitted  to  his 
disciples  knowledge  not  given  in  the  Bible,  and  that  they  in  turn 
transmitted  this  knowledge  to  the  fathers  of  the  Church.  Tyndale 
of  course  objected,  sneered  at  the  "unwritten  vanities,"  and  be- 
heved  that  the  councils  had  been  called  for  the  purpose  of  mak- 
ing "every  opinion,  that  seemed  profitable,  an  article  of  the 
faith."  The  reading  of  these  tracts,  and  of  others  hke  them,  filled 
with  abuse  and  sometimes  billingsgate  is,  it  must  be  confessed, 
a  dreary  matter.  A  man's  religion  is  not  a  matter  primarily  of  in- 
tellectual conviction,  nor  is  he  apt  to  be  convinced  by  argument. 
To  the  debate  each  brings  his  own  preconceptions,  and  is  very 
honestly  convinced  by  the  pleader  of  his  own  side.  Whether  Our 
Lord  in  giving  the  keys  to  Peter  contemplated  the  historic  develop- 
ment of  the  Papacy  is  not  a  question  open  to  a  purely  rational 
solution.  Consequently  both  More's  English  works  and  those  of 
Tyndale  have  been  relegated  to  the  libraries  of  the  sp>ecial  student. 
And  however  vital  they  may  have  been  then,  today  they  have 
slight  literary  interest.  It  is  pathetic  to  realize  that  the  brain  that 
conceived  the  Utopia  should  have  been  employed  in  such  a  task. 
And  it  cannot  be  truthfully  said  that  the  effect  upon  their  contem- 
poraries was  commensurate  with  the  labor.  England  became  prot- 
estant,  not  because  Tyndale  out-argued  More,  but  because  forces 
other  than  spiritual  swept  the  nation  somewhat  unwillingly  in  the 
destined  direction. 

But  this  futility  is  not  true  of  the  original  cause  of  the  contro- 
versy, Tyndale's  translation  of  the  New  Testament.  As  with 
slight  modifications  and  rectifications  it  became  tlie  basis  of  all 
subsequent  renderings  of  the  New  Testament  into  English,  it  is 
impossible  to  overstate  the  indebtedness  owed  to  it  by  general 
English  literature.  Tyndale's  simple,  idiomatic,  and  dignified 
English,  sounding  in  the  ears  of  the  child  until  that  child  had  be- 


396  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

come  an  old  man,  and  from  one  generation  to  another,  set  a  stand- 
ard to  which  all  writers  have  conformed.  It  is  preeminently  the 
link  that  binds  the  present  to  the  past  and,  in  space,  holds  to- 
gether the  far-flung  members  of  the  EngUsh  race.  ^  Even  Shake- 
speare has  his  seasons  and  lesser  authors  vary  in  corresponding  de- 
grees. It  is  only  the  Bible  that,  in  all  ages  and  by  all  peoples  from 
the  king  to  the  peasant,  is  read.  Therefore  as  a  literary  force 
Tyndale's  version  is  one  of  the  great  factors  in  the  development 
of  the  race. 

But  aside  from  Tyndale's  version,  the  products  of  the  religious 
controversy  belong  rather  to  the  historian  than  to  the  student 
of  literature.  For  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  various 
dogmas  were  not  merely  abstract  speculations,  but  that  they  were 
of  intensely  practical  interest  to  the  community.  The  doctrine 
of  "justification  by  faith"  was  far-reaching  in  English  life.  If 
man  were  saved  by  faith  alone,  as  Luther  preached,  "good  works," 
represented  in  the  innumerable  chantries,  monasteries,  convents, 
were  supererogation.  This  deduction  did  not  fail  to  be  drawn.  In 
1529  Simon  Fish  brought  out  his  little  tract,  A  Supplicacyon  for 
Beggers}  In  only  thirteen  pages  of  modern  type  Fish  succeeds 
in  effectively  arraigning  the  clergy  for  their  immorality  and  their 
excessive  wealth.  Foxe  is  the  sole  authority  for  the  two  con- 
tradictory stories  of  its  introduction  to  the  king's  notice  by  Anne 
Boleyn  and  by  two  merchants.  This,  however,  gives  him  the  op- 
portunity of  crediting  to  Henry  two  diverse,  but  dramatic,  scenes, 
agreeing  in  the  single  particular  that  the  reception  was  favorable. 
Clearly,  if  such  were  the  case,  the  favorable  reception  was  due  to 
its  contents,  not  to  its  literary  qualities.  Its  cardinal  merit  is  its 
brevity,  and  perhaps  the  vigor  of  its  invective.  But  also  the  eflfect 
is  due  to  the  use  of  clever  literary  mechanism,  which  is  given  at 
once  in  the  first  paragraph. 

Most  lamentably  compleyneth  theyre  wofull  mysery  vnto  youre  highnes 
youre  poore  daily  bedemen  the  wretched  hidous  monstres  (on  whome  scarcely 
for  horror  any  yie  dare  loke)  the  foule  vnhappy  sorte  of  lepres,  and  other  sore 

^  For  an  appreciation  of  the  Bible  as  literature  the  reader  is  referred  to  Pro- 
fessor Cook's  presentation,  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature,  Vol.  IV, 
Chapter  2. 

*  Reprinted  as  No.  4  in  Arber's  English  Scholar's  Library,  1878. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    397 

people,  nedy,  impotent,  blinde,  lame,  and  sike,  that  live  onely  by  almesse,  howe 
that  theyre  nombre  is  daily  so  sore  encreased  that  all  the  almesse  of  all  the  weldis- 
posed  people  of  this  youre  realme  is  not  halfe  ynough  for  to  susteine  theim,  but 
that  for  verey  constreint  they  die  for  hunger.  And  this  most  pestilent  mischief 
is  comen  vppon  youre  saide  poore  beedmen  by  the  reason  that  there  is  yn  the 
tymes  of  youre  noble  predecessours  passed  craftily  crept  ynto  this  your  realme 
an  other  sort  (not  of  impotent  but)  of  strong  puissant  and  counterfeit  holy,  and 
ydell  beggers  and  vacabundes  whiche  syns  the  tyme  of  theyre  first  entre  by  all 
the  craft  and  wilinesse  of  Satan  are  nowe  encreased  vnder  your  sight  not  onely 
into  a  great  nombre,  but  also  ynto  a  kingdome.  These  are  (not  the  herdes,  but 
the  rauinous  wolues  going  in  herdes  clothing  deuouring  the  fiocke)  the  Bisshoppes, 
Abbottes,  Priours,  Deacons,  Archdeacons,  Suffraganes,  Prestes,  Monkes  Chanons, 
Freres,  Pardoners  and  Somners. 

He  then  reckons  their  incomes,  discusses  their  morals,  and  ends 
by  insinuating  that  they  owe  allegiance  to  another  than  the  king 
of  England.  Such  briefly  is  "the  most  celebrated  and  perhaps 
most  dangerous  attack  against  the  religious  orders  made  in  the 
early  sixteenth  century. "  ^  But  unless  Abbei  Gasquet  greatly 
over-estimates  Fish's  effort,  these  superlatives  are  applicable 
largely  on  account  of  the  form  employed. 

This  was  answered  in  the  same  year  by  Sir  Thomas  More  in  the 
Supplication  of  Souls.  The  form  of  this  was  obviously  predeter- 
mined by  that  of  its  predecessor  in  being  a  supplication  from  the 
souls  still  in  purgatory.  Unfortunately  it  was  by  no  means  so 
effective.  Its  very  bulk  (and  it  is  ten  times  the  length  of  Fish's 
stinging  little  tract!)  was  against  it.  At  length  he  refuted  Fish's 
calculations  of  the  income  and  property  of  the  clergy,  and  at 
length  justified  the  existence  of  purgatory.  Actually,  however.  Sir 
Thomas  was  here  at  fault.  If  the  clergy  were  parasites,  as  Fish 
assumed  in  his  first  paragraph,  the  exact  amount  of  their  depre- 
dations was  a  matter  of  minor  importance;  any  amount,  however 
small,  was  too  much.  And  clearly,  whether  or  not  there  be  a 
pulsatory,  if  we  are  justified  by  faith,  the  efficacy  of  the  ordained 
clergy  is  strictly  limited  to  the  living.  Fish  died  of  the  plague 
the  following  year,  and  More  tells  us  ^ 

But  god  gaue  hym  such  grace  afterwards,  that  he  was  sory  for  that  good  zde. 
and  rep>ented  hym  aelfe  and  came  into  the  chyrche  agayne,  and  forsoke  and  for- 

*  Henry  VIII.  and  the  English  Monaeleria,  by  Franda  Aidan  Gasquet,  1,  84. 

*  More's  Apology,  ed.  Taft,  op.  cit.,  123. 


398  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

sware  all  the  whole  hyll  of  those  heresyes,  out  of  which  the  fountayne  of  that 
same  good  zeale  sprange. 

As  Sir  Thomas  is  both  reliable  and  had  access  to  sources  of  in- 
formation closed  to  us,  the  fact  need  not  be  questioned;  that  this 
conversion  was  owing  to  an  intellectual  conviction  due  to  read- 
ing the  Supplication  of  Souls  is,  however,  beyond  the  credulity 
of  the  modem  reader. 

Of  the  many  propagandist  publications,  which  filled  the  air  be- 
tween 1530  and  1540,  those  we  have  been  considering  may  be  taken 
as  fair  examples.  The  others,  therefore,  need  not  detain  us.  Like 
all  work  written  for  a  particular  occasion  they  are  interesting  only 
to  those  interested  in  that  event.  Just  as,  while  thousands  know 
Gulliver's  Travels  and  the  Tale  of  a  Tub,  it  is  the  chance  student 
only  that  knows  the  Condvxd  of  the  AllieSy  said  to  be  the  most 
effective  political  pamphlet  ever  written.  So  here.  The  various 
works  have  been  forgotten  with  the  disputes  that  called  them  forth. 
There  is  one  peculiarity,  nevertheless,  that  deserves  a  passing  con- 
sideration, namely  the  predominance  among  them  of  the  dialogue 
used  for  polemic  purpose.  To  so  great  an  extent  was  this  used  that 
it  may  be  said  that  a  new  literary  type  was  created.  It  is  quite 
true,  however,  that  the  dialogue  had  been  a  favorite  form  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  or  rather,  that  the  division  between  the  dialogue  and 
the  conflictus  cannot  be  sharply  drawn. ^  It  is  equally  true  that  in 
classical  times  it  had  been  used  for  exposition,  as  in  Plato,  and  for 
satire,  as  in  Lucian.  In  both  classic  and  medieval  times  the 
function  of  the  work  was  literary.  But  when  the  nation  was  con- 
fronted with  the  grave  questions  arising  from  the  divorce,  interest 
in  the  purely  Uterary  was  lost  in  the  interest  in  thoughts,  vital  to 
the  well-being  of  each  individual.  Thus  the  author  of  the  Utopia  in 
Latin  spends  his  strength  in  the  composition  of  works  on  local  issues 
and  in  English.  Such  a  condition  occurs  but  once  more  in  the 
history  of  the  literature.  Between  1640  and  1660  there  was  very 
little  pure  Uterature  produced,  because  of  the  intensity  of  in- 
terest in  actual  events.  Before  that  period  Milton  was  writing 
great  poems;  after  that  period  he  was  writing  great  poems;  but 
for  those  twenty  years  he  devoted  himself  to  the  composition  of 
tracts.  These  may  or  may  not  be  of  interest  to  the  modem  reader, 

1  Chapter  III,  pp.  128-129. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE  399 

but  clearly  the  interest  is  quite  different  from  that  aroused  by 
Paradise  Lost.  Analogous  to  this  is  the  situation  during  the  last 
half  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  The  very  tracts  were  written 
with  a  passionate  desire  to  convince.  Under  these  circumstances, 
it  is  noticeable  that  so  many  of  them  take  the  form  of  a  dialogue. 
When  Starkey  wishes  to  explain  to  the  nation  at  large  and  to  the 
king  in  particular  the  attitude  of  Reginald  Pole,  he  represents 
him  in  conversation  with  Lupset.^  When  Thomas  wishes  to  de- 
fend the  king's  marriages,  he  describes  a  conversation  between 
himself  and  various  Italian  gentlemen.^  When  More  wishes  to 
explain  the  Lutheran  heresy  of  justification  by  faith,  he  is  inter- 
viewed by  a  messenger  who  represents  a  doubting  friend  and  wishes 
More's  opinion  on  the  matter.  Without  prolonging  the  list 
of  illustrations,  it  is  evident  that  the  dialogue  form  has  been 
pressed  into  the  service  of  pamphleteering. 

The  reason  for  this  literary  fashion  is  not  very  clear.  Professor 
Herford  seems  to  attribute  it  to  the  German  influence.'  Now, 
while  granting  that  the  original  impulse  was  derived  from  English 
contact  with  German  thought,  the  form  seems  rather  to  be  de- 
rived from  humanism,  and  humanism  via  Erasmus.  More,  for 
example,  early  had  translated  the  dialogues  of  Lucian.  Satire  is 
very  close  to  attack,  so  that  certain  of  the  Colloquia  read  like  work 
of  the  reformers.  And  as  the  Colloquies  were  immensely  popular, 
when  the  reformers  wished  to  attack,  the  form  was  ready  to  hand. 
It  is  to  be  noted,  also,  that  in  proportion  as  the  dialogue  approached 
the  Platonic,  rather  than  the  Aristotelian,  form  of  dialogue,  it  was 
less  suitable  for  party  purpose.  The  Messenger  in  More's  Dialogue 
was  felt  to  have  expressed  the  heretical  opinions  rather  better  than 
the  heretics  themselves  could  do.  Even  More  himself  seemed  to 
have  been  conscious  of  this  and  consulted  advisors.  But  the  liter- 
ary flavor  of  Erasmus  is  exactly  this,  that  all  parties  in  the  conver- 
sation are  human.  Consequently  the  nearer  the  polemic  dialogue 
approached  a  work  of  art,  the  less  the  *  man  of  straw'  was  of  straw 

'  Printed  m  England  in  the  Reign  of  Henry  VIII.  edited  by  J.  M.  Cowper  for 
the  E.  E.  T.  S. 

«  The  Pilgrim,  ed.  by  J.  A.  Froude. 

*  Literary  Relation  bettoeen  England  and  Germany  in  the  16th.  century,  op.  eit.. 
Chapter  2.  The  reader  is  referred  there  for  a  very  thoughtful  discussion  of  the 
phenumenoQ. 


400  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

and  the  more  he  was  human,  in  equal  ratio  was  the  work  less 
fitted  for  the  purpose.  Perhaps  for  that  reason,  after  a  vigorous 
existence,  the  dialogue  was  surrendered  to  uses  purely  literary,  and 
the  controversies  at  the  end  of  the  century,  such  as  the  Martin 
Marprelate  and  the  Nash-Harvey  pamphlets  take  the  form  of  the 
personal  essay. ^  The  polemic  dialogue  remains  a  distinct  and 
curious  development  in  the  history  of  the  literature. 

As  the  Germanic  element  in  the  prose  polemic  dialogue  is  so 
slight,  in  this  vagueness  a  definite  relation  is  welcomed.  This  is 
to  be  found  in  Professor  Herford's  hypothesis  that  the  Rede  me 
and  be  noit  wrothe  in  part  is  a  derivation  from  Manuel's  Der  kran- 
kheit  der  Messe.^  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  Rede  me  is  a 
polemic  dialogue  in  verse,  the  first  part  of  which  laments  the  death 
of  the  personified  Mass  and  discusses  a  suitable  place  for  its  burial. 
Tliis  conception,  perhaps  owing  to  the  fact  that  it  is  at  the  begin- 
ning, caused  the  poem,  as  we  know  from  Sir  Thomas  More,  to  be 
familiarly  called  the  Burial  of  the  Mass.  In  any  case,  it  plays  an 
important  part.  But  this  idea  seems  logically  to  follow  from  the 
immensely  popular  and  very  clever  dialogue  of  Niclaus  Manuel, 
the  Bernese  poet.  There  the  progress  of  the  Reformation  in  Swit- 
zerland is  typified  in  the  death  struggle  of  the  expiring  Mass.  And 
it  is  followed  by  the  last  Testament  of  the  Mass.  As  Strasburg  was 
so  closely  connected  with  the  strife  over  the  border,  it  is  incredible 
that  so  dramatic  a  situation,  handled  with  so  much  power  and 
verve,  should  not  have  penetrated  there.  This  may  be,  therefore, 
the  reason  that  Strasburg  figures  in  the  English  work.  We  know 
that  Roy  and  Barlow  were  in  Germany,  just  when  Der  Krankheit 
der  Messe  was  circulating.  The  assumption  is,  therefore,  that  "as 
the  most  effective  handle  within  reach  for  the  elaborate  assault 
upon  the  English  clergy  which  he  (Roy)  contemplated,  he  seized 
upon  it — and  then  came  the  complaisant  and  industrious  Barlow 
to  give  form  to  his  conception."  ^  This  assumption  seems  so  plaus- 
ible that  one  tends  to  accept  it  as  fact.     If  it  be  accepted,  it  may 

^  This  must  not  be  understood  as  implying  that  later  the  dialogue  was  never  used 
in  this  form.  The  Diotrephes  (1588)  and  other  works  prove  the  contrary.  Yet 
in  the  second  half  of  the  century  the  occasional  appearance  of  this  type  is  merely 
the  survival  of  a  past  fashion;  the  usual  form  was  the  personal  essay. 

"  Cf.  pp.  208-212. 

*  Herford,  op.  cit.  48. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    401 

be  regarded  as  epitomizing  the  whole  subject  of  German  influence. 
When  by  chance  an  Enghsh  author  found  something  to  his  Hking 
in  the  German  literatures,  he  simply  appropriated  it,  incorporated 
it  into  his  own  work,  and  gave  it  a  strictly  English  setting.  Con- 
sequently there  was  no  German  influence  as  such;  it  is  a  record  of 
individual  writers  purloining  the  particular  feature  with  which 
their  fancy  had  become  enamoured. 

The  best  illustration  of  this  appropriation  of  German  work  on 
the  part  of  individuals  is  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  "good" 
Bishop  Coverdale,  and  at  the  same  time  the  best  illustration  of  the 
lack  of  literary  interest.  It  must  be  always  a  matter  of  regret  to 
the  conscientious  student  of  literature  that  "good"  as  applied 
to  life  and  as  applied  to  literature  so  rarely  means  the  same !  So 
many  bad  men  write  good  books  and  so  many  bad  books  are  writ- 
ten by  men  whose  intentions  are  exemplary.  So  often  the  life  of 
the  great  writer  must  be  considered  in  the  light  of  a  warning  to 
youth,  and  so  often  the  writings  of  the  great  and  good  must  be  re- 
garded as  models  of  what  to  avoid.  To  a  certain  extent  these 
trite  meditations  apply  to  the  case  in  hand.  Coverdale  is  a  volumi- 
nous writer,^  but  to  a  very  large  extent  his  works  are  translations. 
Of  these,  one  assures  him  fame,  since  he  made  the  first  translation 
of  the  whole  Bible  into  English.  On  the  title  page  of  the  1535 
edition  of  this,  the  statement  is  made  that  it  was  translated  "out  of 
Douche  and  Latin  into  Englische."  Unlike  Tyndale,  he  felt  no 
necessity  for  a  study  of  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  originals.  Perhaps 
for  that  reason  his  sentences  are  more  fluid  than  those  of  Tyndale 
and  some  of  his  phrases  have  been  retained  in  the  Authorized  Ver- 
sion. With  Buffon's  statement  in  mind  concerning  the  man  and  the 
style,  the  contrast  between  Tyndale's  life  and  work  and  the  life  and 
work  of  his  successor  is  inevitable, — not  to  Coverdale's  advantage. 

But  the  effect  on  literature  of  either  Coverdale's  Bible,  or  any 
of  his  numerous  tracts,  is  indirect.  They  were  to  be  judged,  and 
he  wished  them  to  be  judged,  for  their  religious  value.  Probably, 
also,  that  was  his  attitude  in  the  attempts  at  religious  verse,  his 
Goostiy  Psalmes  and  Spiritiiall  Songea.  These  are  translations  and 
adaptations  of  Lutheran  hymns,^  as  Bale  lists  Cantiones  Wittenher- 

'  Many  of  his  tracts  and  the  Gooatly  Psalmes  have  been  reprinted  by  the  Parker 
Society. 

*  The  reaemblance  of  Coverdale's  hymns  to  the  German  was  first  pointed  out 


402  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

gensium  among  his  works.  And  the  date  of  issue  must  have  been 
before  1546,  when,  as  is  shown  by  the  entry  of  Bishop  Bonner,  the 
book  was  placed  upon  the  prohibited  Hst.  Before  that  time  Cover- 
dale  visited  the  continent  at  least  twice.  In  1529  Foxe,  with  con- 
vincing detail,  states  that  he  was  in  Hamburg;^  and  after  the  re- 
action in  1540  he  again  fled  to  Europe.  As  the  GoosUy  Psalmes 
was  issued  without  any  date,  the  time  of  pubUcation  and  still  more 
the  time  of  composition  are  purely  inferential.^  The  case  is  com- 
pUcated  by  three  factors,  namely;  first,  that  the  number  of  hymn 
books  published  both  in  High  German  and  in  the  Plattdeutsche  are 
exceedingly  numerous,  so  that  it  is  diflBcult  to  determine  even  what 
edition  Coverdale  used;  secondly,  that  his  own  translations  are 
so  free  that  it  is  sometimes  impossible  to  decide  which  of  two,  or 
three,  hymns  is  his  immediate  original;  and  thirdly,  because,  ap- 
parently, he  occasionally  also  wrote  with  the  Latin  original  in 
mind.^  It  seems  safer,  therefore,  to  assume  a  dating  around  1540. 
The  question  of  the  dating,  here,  is  by  no  means  of  mere  aca- 
demic importance,  because  to  a  large  extent  the  accomplishment  of 
the  purpose  for  which  Coverdale  undertook  the  work  is  affected. 
His  avowed  aim  was  to  substitute,  for  profane  ballads,  songs  of 
spiritual  content.^ 

by  Professor  A.  F.  Mitchell  {The  Wedderbums  and  their  Work,  1867);  in  the  'Acad- 
emy' May  31,  1884,  Professor  C.  H.  Herford  gave  his  independent  results;  June 
21,  in  the  same  publication,  Meams,  then  working  on  the  Dictionary  of  Hymno- 
logy,  added  to  the  number;  June  28,  Mitchell  supplemented  and  criticised  the 
results;  1886,  in  Literary  Relations  Herford  replied;  1887,  H.  R,  Tedder  (D.  N.  B, 
article  Coverdale)  summarizes  the  controversy;  1892,  Meams  published  his  list 
in  the  Dictionary  of  Hymnology;  1897,  Mitchell  {The  Glide  and  Godlie  BaUatis, 
Scottish  Text  Society,  pp.  cxiv  ff.)  restates  the  whole  matter. 

^  Foxe,  Actes  and  Monwments,  ed.  1583,  1077.  "  Thus  having  lost  by  that 
ship,  both  money,  his  copies  and  time,  he  (Tyndale)  came  in  another  ship  to 
Hamborough,  where  at  his  appoyntment  M.  Coverdale  taried  for  him,  and  helped 
him  in  the  translating  of  the  whole  5  bookes  of  Moises,  from  Easter  till  Decemb. 
in  the  house  of  a  worshipfull  widowe,  Maistres  Margaret  van  Emmerson,  Anno 
1529,  a  great  sweating  sickness  being  the  same  time  in  the  Towne." 

^  I  take  pleasiu-e  in  acknowledging  the  assistance  given  me  by  Mr.  Walter 
Abel,  who  is  working  on  this  problem. 

'  This  may  be  illustrated  by  a  comparison  between  the  English  rendering  of 
Christe  Qui  lux  (Parker  Society,  Works  of  Coverdale,  Remains,  p.  584)  and  the  Latin 
and  the  German.     As  Mr.  Abel  has  shown,  quite  clearly  he  used  both  versions. 

*  Coverdale 's  Remains,  op.  cit.,  538. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    403 

Seeing  then  that,  as  the  prophet  David  salth,  it  is  so  good  and  pleasant  a  thing 
to  praise  the  Lord,  and  so  expedient  for  us  to  be  thankful;  therefore,  to  give  our 
youth  of  England  some  occasion  to  change  their  foul  and  corrupt  ballads  into 
sweet  songs  and  spiritual  hymns  of  God's  honour,  and  for  their  own  consolation 
in  him,  I  have  here,  good  reader,  set  out  certain  comfortable  songs  grounded  on 
God's  word,  and  taken  some  out  of  the  holy  scripture,  specially  out  of  the  Psalms 
of  David,  all  whom  would  God  that  our  musicians  would  learn  to  make  their 
songs;  and  if  they  which  are  disposed  to  be  merry,  would  in  their  mirth  follow 
the  counsel  of  St.  Paul  and  St.  James,  and  not  to  pass  their  time  in  naughty 
songs  of  fleshly  love  and  wantonness,  but  with  singing  of  psalms,  and  such  songs 
as  edify,  and  corrupt  not  men's  conversation.^ 

His  pious  purpose,  however,  failed  of  fulfillment.  The  book  exists 
in  only  one  copy,^  and  there  was  no  second  edition  until  modem 
times.  The  usual  explanation  of  this  fact  is  to  be  found  in  Cover- 
dale's  lack  of  lyric  quality.  Clumsy  as  are  the  hymns,  this  theory 
will  fail  to  satisfy  anyone  familiar  with  many  of  the  popular  ones  of 
our  Protestant  collection,  where  the  lack  of  poetic  feeling  is  com- 
pensated by  religious  fervor.  Apparently,  the  will  is  often  taken 
for  the  deed,  and  one  may  be  truly  successful  in  a  hymn,  in  which 
enough  faulty  rhyming,  atrocious  meter  and  vulgar  phrasing  are 
combined  to  make  a  secular  poem  a  hissing  and  a  reproach.  There- 
fore, however  sternly  Coverdale's  efforts  may  be  judged  as  poetic 
compositions,  the  reason  for  their  failure  lies  elsewhere.  The  real 
explanation  is,  I  think,  that  they  are  a  foreign  importation,  foreign 
in  both  words  and  music.  What  Coverdale  was  trying  to  do  was  to 
transplant  bodily  certain  portions  of  the  Kirchenlied.  In  this  he 
was  attempting  a  task  much  more  difficult  than  that  of  the  original 
authors.  As  is  well  known,  the  early  Lutheran  hymns  were  set  to 
tunes  both  secular  and  profane,  well  known  to  the  German  people. 
To  familiar  melodies  Luther  set  pale  and  colorless  words  with 
phrases  like  trump)et  calls.  But  these  melodies  were  not  familiar 
to  the  English  nation.  Nor,  it  must  be  confessed,  docs  Coverdale's 
rendering  faintly  suggest  a  trump>et.  The  mere  fact  that  he  was 
forced  by  his  tune  to  maintain  a  definite  form  made  his  work  la- 
bored. Consequently  the  English  public  was  confronted  both 
with  strange  music  and  strange  verse  forms.  Even  so,  it  is  con- 
ceivable that  the  attempt  might  have  succeeded  liad  not  an  Eng- 

'  It  is  characteristic  of  the  age,  rather  than  of  the  man,  that  the  good  bishop 
does  not  feel  it  nt-cessary  to  say  that  they  are  translations. 
'  Coverdale's  Remains  op.  cil.,  5S.5. 


404  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

lish  rival  appeared  upon  the  scene.  Eariy  in  1549,  only  a  few 
years  after  Coverdale's  work  was  published,  were  printed  nineteen 
psalms  of  Thomas  Sternhold.  In  December  of  the  same  year 
eighteen  additional  psalms  by  Sternhold  appeared,  with  seven  by 
Hopkins.  This  volume,  increased  little  by  little,  went  through  edi- 
tion after  edition,  and  became  the  standard  metrical  version  of  the 
Psalms.  The  reason  for  this  preference  is  easily  comprehensible 
by  a  comparison  between  the  two.  For  this  I  shall  cite  the  first 
two  verses  of  the  Second  Psalm,  Quare  fremuerunt  gentes. 
Coverdale's  version  is  as  follows :  ^ 

Werfore  do  the  heithen  now  rage  thus, 
Conspymg  together  so  wyckedly? 
Wherfore  are  the  people  so  malicious, 
Vayne  thynges  to  ymagyn  so  folyshly? 
The  kynges  of  the  earth  stonde  up  together. 
And  worldly  rulers  do  conspyre 
Agaynst  the  Lorde  and  his  Christ  truly. 

They  saye,  Let  us  breake  up  theyr  bondes. 

And  let  us  cast  theyr  yocke  awaye; 

Theyr  lawes  wyll  make  us  lose  oure  londes, 

Therfore  none  soch  wyll  we  obeye. 

But  he  that  in  heaven  hath  residence. 

Shall  laugh  them  to  scome  and  theyr  pretence; 

The  Lorde  shall  mocke  them  nyght  and  daye. 

Stemhold's  version  of  the  same  Psalm  runs  as  follows:  ^ 

Why  did  the  Gentils  tumults  raise? 

what  rage  was  in  their  braine? 
Why  did  the  Jewish  people  muse? 

seeing  all  is  but  vaine? 
The  kings  and  rulers  of  the  earth 

conspire  and  all  are  bent : 
Against  the  Lord  and  Christ  his  son, 

which  he  among  us  sent. 

Shall  we  be  bound  to  them  say  they? 

let  all  their  bonds  be  broke: 
And  of  their  doctrine  and  their  law, 

let  us  reiect  the  yoke. 

*  Coverdale's  Remains  op.  cit.,  568. 

*  I  am  using  the  text  printed  by  John  Windet  in  1601,  not  because  it  is  good, 
but  because  I  happen  to  have  it  by  me. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    405 

But  he  that  in  the  heauen  dwelleth, 

their  doings  will  deride: 
And  make  them  all  as  mocking  stocks, 

thoughout  the  world  so  wide. 

Now,  irrespective  of  any  poetic  difference  between  these  two,  clearly 
the  second  is  more  easily  remembered.  And  whereas  Coverdale 
is  forced  by  his  tune  into  many  involved  stanza-forms,  the  Stem- 
hold  and  Hopkins  has  always  the  same,  and  that  very  simple  and 
well  known  to  the  English  pubUc.  Naturally,  then,  they  preferred 
the  latter.  The  reason  for  Coverdale's  failure  is  in  the  last  analysis 
due  to  the  fact  that  he  did  depend  upon  German  originals.  Con- 
sequently here  also  German  influence  upon  English  is  found  to  be 
of  the  slightest. 

Before  dismissing  the  discussion  of  the  influence  of  the  Germanic 
literatures  upon  the  EngUsh  of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury there  remains  one  more  phase  to  be  considered.  Under 
the  stable  government  of  the  two  Henrys,  coincidently  with  the 
decline  of  the  feudal  theory,  came  the  rise  of  the  middle  class.  The 
merchants  became  a  power,  London  a  great  center.  State  policies, 
which  formerly  were  directed  in  accordance  with  the  wishes  of  the 
nobility,  now  were  modified  by  the  flow  of  trade.  So  in  literature, 
also,  this  new  class  must  be  represented.  As  the  knight  found 
his  poetry  in  Hawes  and  his  recreation  in  the  chivalric  romance, 
and  as  the  humanist  turned  toward  More  and  Erasmus,  so  the 
new  merchant  class  read  the  jest-books.^  In  general  they  may 
be  divided  into  two  quite  clearly  defined  types.  The  first  consists 
of  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  separate  short  anecdotes.  This 
main  division  is  subdivided  into  three  stages.  The  first  of  these 
is  represented  by  the  Hundred  Mery  Talys,  published  in  1526  by 
John  Rastell,  the  brother-in-law  of  Sir  Thomas  More.^  Here  each 
story  has  its  separate  title  and  closes  usually  with  a  moral  appli- 
cation. The  addendum  suggests  the  origin.  Rastell  modelled  his 
collection  upon  those  used  by  medieval  preachers  to  find  illustra- 

'  The  best  general  discussion  is  in  Herford's  Literary  Relations,  Chap.  V. 

The  general  condition  is  outlined  by  F.  W.  D.  Brie,  EuUnrpiegd  in  England, 
Palaestra  XXVII,  1908,  and  the  special  problem  of  the  Eulenspiegel  is  treated  with 
masterly  thoroughness. 

*This  has  been  reprinted  by  Dr.  Herman  Oesteriey,  with  sources  and  imita- 
tions. 


406  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

tions  for  their  sermons.^  But  he  was  not  limited  merely  to  the 
medieval  sources;  he  drew  upon  the  humanists  and  apparently 
even  upon  the  life  around  him.  This  collection  was  so  successful 
that  a  second  edition  was  issued.^  The  second  stage  is  shown  in 
Mery  Tales,  Witiie  Questions^  and  Quiche  Answers,  published  about 
ten  years  later.'  Here  the  moral  application  appears,  but  only 
rarely.  In  addition  to  the  tales  gathered  from  the  Renaissance 
humanists,  such  as  Poggio,^  there  are  anecdotes,  from  classical 
stories,  "The  Answer  of  Fabius  to  Livius,"  "The  Answer  of  Poltis 
the  King  of  Thrace  to  the  Trojan  Ambassadors,"  "The  Wise  An- 
swer of  Hannibal  to  King  Antiochus, "  etc.  The  trace  of  the  medi- 
eval origin  has  almost  disappeared.  It  completely  disappears  in 
the  last  stage,  represented  by  the  Sack  Full  of  News,^  registered  in 
1557.  All  pretense  of  either  educational  or  moral  value  is  gone, 
and  the  anecdotes  are  presented  at  their  face  value,  merely  a  suc- 
cession of  jokes  told  against  members  of  the  middle  class.  Although 
they  seem  unspeakably  dreary  to  us,  there  is  no  harm  in  them,  and, 
considering  social  conditions  of  the  time,  they  are  curiously  free 
from  offense.  In  comparison  with  the  humanistic  facetiae  such  as 
those  of  Poggio,  or  Morlini,  the  Italian  novelle,  such  as  those  of 
Bandello,  or  Fortini,  or  the  French  contes,  such  as  the  Cent  Nou- 
velles  Nouvelles,  or  those  in  Le  Moyen  de  Parvenir,  they  are  sur- 
prisingly moral.    It  must  be  granted  that  they  are  equally  lack- 

^  As  a  matter  of  fact,  five  of  the  hundred  are  taken  from  Bromyard's  Summa 
Pradicantium,  a  compilation  dating  from  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century.  As  Oes- 
terley  notes  only  five,  Brie's  expression  "Wie  in  den  H.  M.  T.  Bromyard  vor- 
herrscht"  must  be  understood  only  in  general. 

^  This  is  reprinted  by  W.  C.  Hazlitt  in  Shakespeare's  Jest  Books.  As  it  is  un- 
dated, the  question  which  is  the  first  edition  on  this  side  of  the  ocean  is  unan- 
swerable.     Faute  de  mieux  I  accept  Oesterley's  opinion. 

'  Reprinted  by  Hazlitt  in  Shakespeare's  Jest  Books.  It  is  undated.  I  give 
1535  as  the  date  on  the  authority  of  W.  W.  Greg,  Hand-lists  of  English  Printers, 
Bibliographical  Society,  Pt.  Ill,  1905.  I  do  not  understand  why  Emil  Koeppel 
(Studien  zur  Geschichte  der  Italienischen  Novelle  in  der  Englischen  Litteratur  des 
Seckzehnten  Jahrhunderts  in  Quellen  und  Forschungen  zur  Sprach-und  Cvlturge- 
schichte  der  Germanischen  Volker  Heft  70,  p.  77)  lists  it  dated  at  1549. 

*  Brie,  op.  cit.,  77,  lists  seventeen  tales  from  the  Facetiae  of  Poggio. 

*  This  was  reprinted  by  J.  O.  Halliwell,  1861,  in  an  edition  of  forty  copies  only, 
and  by  Hazlitt,  Shakespeare's  Jest  Books.  Hazlitt  suppresses  two  which  have 
"no  point"  and  are  "too  gross  for  publication."  Unhappily  they  are  all  with- 
out much  point  and  about  as  gross! 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    407 

ing  in  any  conception  of  art.  The  good  folk  that  laughed  at  them 
were  both  honest  and  dull,  living  plain  homespun  lives,  and  find- 
ing relish  in  the  mistakes  of  their  servants  and  jokes  on  farmers 
and  tradesmen.  These  stories  mirror  a  fat-witted  contented 
world,  without  the  elevation  and  emotional  stress  of  high  art,  and 
equally  removed  from  the  debauchery  that  attended  it  in  the 
Renaissance.  This  deduction  seems  sound  from  the  fact  that  the 
majority  of  these  are  translations.  Although  largely  taken  from 
the  humanistic  Latin,  yet  as  the  source  was  unimportant  to  the 
compiler,  they  are  drawn  also  from  the  Italian,  the  French,  and 
the  German.  But  as  the  French  or  German  in  turn  had  drawn 
from  the  Latin  or  the  Italian,  the  question  of  the  original  au- 
thorship, or  even  the  intermediary,  becomes  involved.  And  as 
the  English  translator  took  his  own  where  he  found  it,  and  re- 
wrote it  for  his  English  public,  it  is  also  diflBcult  even  to  do  more 
than  point  analogies.^  Yet  it  is  certain  that  for  some  of  the 
stories  the  German  compilations  constitute  the  immediate  source. 
The  criticism  against  the  books  of  this  first  type  would  be  that, 
as  there  is  no  connection  between  the  anecdotes,  the  interest  is 
not  cumulative.  Obviously  a  means  of  increasing  the  inter- 
est and  of  unifying  the  whole  work  would  be  to  have  all  the  an- 
ecdotes center  about  one  personality.  Whereas  in  the  first  type 
there  would  be  three  separate  stories  told  of  a  butcher,  a  baker 
and  a  candlestick-maker  respectively,  the  second  step  would 
be  to  have  the  same  stories  told,  but  all  told  of  one  person, 
the  Parson  of  Kalenborowe,  or  Till  Howleglas,  or  Skelton,  or 
Scoggin,  et  al.  Here  each  story  becomes  one  manifestation  of 
the  hero's  activity  and  thereby  contributes  to  a  comprehension 
of  his  character.^  Such  an  idea  of  unifying  the  whole  might 
perhaps  have  come  from  the  Renaissance  versions  of  the  medi- 
eval conflictus  between  Solomon  and  Marcolf.  Originally  this 
consisted  in  an  interchange  of  antithetic  gnomic  sentences, 
but  through  the  ages  this  antithesis  was  extended  from   the 

*  Herford  notes  certain  of  these. 

*This  method  differs  from  the  conventional  framework  of  the  noveUe,  where 
a  party  of  men  and  women,  each  in  rotation,  tells  a  tale.  By  this  means  an  ap- 
parent total  unity  is  gained,  although  <-ach  story  remains  separate.  As  each 
story  does  remain  separate,  each  is  neccs.sarily  carefully  developed,  the  length 
is  increased,  and  much  more  conscious  art  is  employed. 


408  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

opinions  themselves  to  the  characters  of  the  men  who  uttered 
them.  Solomon  became  representative  of  the  court  and  Mar- 
colf  of  the  peasant,  who  indulges  in  coarse  practical  jokes.  In 
this  form  in  the  Latin  and  the  German  it  went  through  a  large 
number  of  editions.^  This  type  of  the  legend  appears  in  Eng- 
lish, the  Dialogue  or  communing  between  the  wise  king  Salomon  and 
Marcol-phus,  translated  from  the  Dutch  and  printed  by  Gerard 
Leeu  of  Antwerp.^  But  also  there  was  a  French  version  in  which 
Marcolf  *s  rejoinders  are  always  based  upon  the  manners  of  pros- 
titutes. And  this  was  translated  and  printed  by  Pynson.^  Con- 
sequently in  England  there  were  not  only  the  Latin  copies  accessi- 
ble, but  also  two  quite  different  versions  in  English.  As  the  Ren- 
aissance has  shifted  the  emphasis  upon  Marcolf,  and  as  in  this 
form  the  legend  was  so  widely  distributed,  it  is  quite  possible  that 
this  work  played  a  part  in  the  development. 

Whatever  may  be  the  hypothetical  connection  of  the  Salomon 
and  Marcolf  legend  with  the  change  that  we  are  discussing,  the 
main  impulse  can  be  clearly  shown  to  have  come  from  Germany. 
But  whereas  a  reading  knowledge  of  Latin  and,  to  a  less  degree, 
French  may  be  assumed  for  the  English  public  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  same  assumption  may  not  be  made  for  the  Germanic 
dialects;  in  fact,  although  naturally  the  dialect  would  be  familiar 
in  proportion  as  it  was  spoken  by  those  having  trade  connections 
with  England,  it  was  not  generally  read.^  Consequently  with  any 
German  work,  unlike  the  Latin,  it  is  necessary  first  to  show  the 
intermediary.  Fortunately  this  is  found  in  the  work  of  Jan  van 
Doesborgh,  printer  at  Antwerp  between  1505(?)  and  1530.^  From 
his  press,  between  these  dates,  there  are  known  twenty-nine  def- 
inite issues.  The  remarkable  feature  of  this  list  is,  however,  that 
fifteen  of  the  items  are  of  books  printed  in  English,  and  still  more 
remarkable  is  the  fact  that  the  books  printed  by  this  Dutchman 
in  Antwerp  are,  not  religious  tracts  as  might  be  supposed,  but 

^  In  Salomon  and  Saturn,  London  1848,  Kemble  cites  eighteen  editions  in  the 
Latin  alone,  about  1500. 

*  Edited  by  E.  Gordon  Duff,  1892. 

*  Eight  characteristic  stanzas  are  quoted  by  Kemble,  op.  eit.,  p.  92. 

^Tlus  is  evident  from  the  rarity  of  words  imported  from  the  Teutonic  dia^ 
lects. 

*  Here  I  am  indebted  to  Robert  Proctor's  Jan  van  Doesborgh  Printer  at  Antwerp. 
An  Essay  in  BiUiography.      Ix>Ddon,  1894. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    409 

pieces  pertaining  to  general  literature,  such  as  a  reprint  of  Cax- 
ton's  Longer  Accidence^  Robin  Hood,  or  the  novel  Euryalus  and 
Lucretia  of  ^neas  Sylvius  Piccolomini.  Most  of  them  also  are 
translations,  and  naturally  nearly  half,  seven  of  the  fifteen,  are 
from  the  Dutch.  The  first.  The  Fifteen  Tokens,  is  stated  to  have 
been  translated  by  Van  Doesborgh  himself.  It  is  clumsily  done, 
and  evidently  by  a  foreigner.  This  is  not  true  of  most  of  the 
others.  They  were  written,  if  not  by  an  Englishman,  by  one  cer- 
tainly perfectly  at  home  with  the  language.  In  this  connection 
Proctor  makes  a  fascinating  suggestion  that  is  unfortunately  im- 
possible to  prove.  ^  In  the  prologue  to  the  Wonderful  Shape  we 
are  told  that  "Laurens  andrewe  of  the  towne  of  Calls  haue  trans- 
lated for  Johannes  doesborowe  booke  prenter  in  the  cite  of  And- 
warp  this  present  volume  deuided  in  thre  parts  which  was  neuer 
before  in  no  matemall  langage  prentyd  tyl  now."  But  we  find 
this  Laurence  Andrewe  in  1527  setting  up  himself  as  a  printer  in 
London  on  Fleet  Street,  at  the  Sign  of  the  Golden  Cross,  where  he 
printed  five  books,  one  of  which  is  the  debate  between  Somer  and 
Winter.^  As  Van  Doesborgh  printed  six  translations  from  the 
Dutch  in  the  years  1518(?)-1520(?)  Proctor  suggests  that  Lau- 
rence Andrewe  was  his  translator  for  at  least  five  of  them.  Some 
color  is  given  to  this  surmise  from  the  fact  that  in  the  first  of  his 
books  printed  in  England,  a  scientific  work,  he  says -."After  dyvers 
and  sondry  small  volumes  and  tryfles  of  myrth  and  pastaunce  som 
newly  composed,  some  translated  and  of  late  finished,  (I  am)  now 
mynded  to  exercise  my  pene  in  mater  to  the  reder  som  what  more 
profytable. "  '  If  there  be  truth  in  this  conjecture  it  was  the  sin- 
gular fortune  of  one  man  to  be  the  chief  channel  through  which 
Germanic  literature  entered  England. 

Of  the  translations  some  are  merely  from  Dutch  versions  of  works 
in  other  literatures,  and  some  clearly  of  only  temporal  interest. 
Frederick  of  Jennen,  of  which  there  were  apparently  at  least  three 
editions  in  England,  purports  to  tell  of  a  merchant's  wife  that  lived 
disguised  as  a  man.     Mary  of  Nemmegen  is  still  more  interesting 

*  Proctor,  op.  eit.,  89. 

*  Cf.  p.  128.  In  connection  with  this  suggestion  it  would  be  interesting  to 
see  whether  the  version  of  this  old  medieval  conflictus  did  not  come  from  the 
Dutch. 

'  Quoted  from  Tedder's  article  in  the  D.  N.  B. 


410  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

in  that  the  heroine  was  the  paramour  of  the  devil  for  seven  years. 
There  are  two  of  these  translations,  however,  that  cannot  be  dis- 
missed in  this  summary  fashion.  The  Parson  of  Kalenborowe  ^  is 
the  famous  German  collection  of  tales  of  the  tricky  Pfarrer  Vom 
Kahlenherg}  It  exists  in  a  single  copy  and  there  was  but  one  known 
edition.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  book  that  was  welcomed  both 
in  Germany  and  in  France  should  have  been  so  coldly  received  in 
England.  Certainly  that  is  not  true  of  the  other  equally  famous 
collection,  namely  the  Eulenspiegel  stories.^  This  was  printed  in 
1519 (?)  under  the  title  Tyll  Howleglas.^  Fifty  years  later  it  was 
reprinted,  together  with  another  of  Doesborgh's  publications,  in 
three  editions  (1559-ca.  1563)  ^  and  is  a  literal  reprint  with  the 
spelling  and  punctuation  modernized.^  Here  then  we  have  a  def- 
inite example  of  German  influence.  Doesborgh's  volume  was 
still  vital  after  half  a  century  and  through  Copland 's  reprinting  be- 
came absorbed  into  Elizabethan  hfe.^ 

^  There  is  some  doubt  whether  this  be  an  issue  of  Doesborgh's  press.  Proctor 
{pp.  cit.,  35)  says:  "It  is  remarkable  that  with  the  exception  of  a  single  cut,  none 
of  the  ornaments  in  this  book  are  found  in  any  other  of  Doesborgh's  productions 
at  present  known."  Brie  notes  (op.  cit.,  5,  note  4).  "  Ich  selbst  hege  starke 
Zweifel,  ob  das  Buch  (einziges  Exemplar  in  der  Bodl.  Library)  uberhaupt  aus 
der  Presse  Doesborgh's  geflossen  ist,  wie  mir  auch  Proctor  selbst  seiner  Sache 
nicht  recht  sicher  zu  sein  scheint." 

^The  name  of  the  parson  gave  the  word  calembour  to  the  French  language. 
According  to  the  N.  E.  D.  it  does  not  appear  in  English  until  1830. 

'  This  in  turn  gave  French  the  word  espiSglerie  which  was  not  introduced  into 
English  until  Walter  Scott. 

*  The  only  remaining  fragment  has  been  reprinted  by  Brie  (op.  cit.,  1261-38). 

'  This  dating,  taken  from  Brie  (op.  cit.,  9),  is  based  on  the  typographical  pe- 
culiarities. 

'  Reprinted  by  Frederic  Ouvry  in  1867  in  a  very  small  edition.  He  com- 
bines two  imperfect  copies.  To  illustrate  the  close  similarity  I  shall  quote  the 
beginning  of  the  wine-drawer  episode  in  each  version.  Doesborgh  (quoted  from 
Brie  op.  cit.,  130)  "  On  a  tyme  came  Howleglas  to  Lubeke  where  is  very  strayght 
Justyce  And  whyle  yt  Howleglas  was  there  abydynge  he  harde  tell  of  a  wyne 
drawer  yt  was  in  a  Lordes  seller  that  was  very  prowde  and  presumtyouse  and 
sayd  that  there  was  no  man  that  culde  deseyve  hym  or  passe  hym  in  wysdome.  .  ." 
Copland  (quoted  from  Ouvry  op.  cit.,  52).  "On  a  time  came  Howleglas  to  Lu- 
beke, where  is  very  straight  Justice,  &  the  while  that  Howleglas  was  then  abidin, 
he  herd  tell  of  a  wine  drawer  that  was  in  a  lordes  seler,  that  was  very  proud  and 
presumptuous.  And  it  was  sayd  that  there  was  no  man  that  could  deceiue  him 
nor  passe  him  in  wisdom.  .  ." 

7  In  the  Bodleian  copy,  facsimiled  by  Ouvry,  is  a  curious  illustration  of  this  in 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    411 

Because  the  Howleglas  was  so  much  read,  because  it  is  the  best 
example  of  the  type  of  Uterature  introduced  by  Laurence  An- 
drewe(?),  and  lastly  because  it  is  merely  the  precursor  of  others, 
an  analysis  of  the  book  is  here  necessary.^  The  book  purports  to 
be  a  compilation  of  the  knavishness  and  falseness  of  one  Howleglas, 
who  died  in  1350.^  It  begins  with  his  christening  "in  the  land  of 
Sassen,  in  the  vyllage  of  Ruelnige,"  gives  an  anecdote  of  him  as  a 
child,  as  a  boy,  and  as  a  lad,  all  in  his  native  village.  His  mother 
was  glad  that  he  was  "so  sottele  and  wyse"  as  he  had  apparently 
shown  himself  in  the  previous  tales,  and  suggests  that  he  be  appren- 
ticed to  a  craft.  But  "Howleglas  would  euer  fare  well  and  make 
good  cheare  but  he  would  not  work."  He  leaves  home  to  wander 
through  Europe  from  the  Baltic  to  Rome  to  avoid  labor.  If  hired, 
he  plays  some  motiveless  practical  joke  that  causes  him  to  resume 
his  wanderings.  In  this  phase  the  usual  method  is  to  execute  the 
orders  given  him  by  his  master  Hterally.  The  shoemaker,  for  exam- 
ple, tells  him  to  cut  the  leather  for  shoes  "little  and  great,  as  the 
swineherd  did  drive  his  beastes,"  with  the  result  that  Howleglas 
cuts  the  leather  in  the  shape  of  the  feet  of  beasts;  when  told  to  sew 
the  shoes,  the  great  with  the  small,  he  sews  them  altogether;  when 
told  to  cut  the  shoes  on  one  last,  he  cuts  all  the  leather  for  shoes  of 
the  left  foot.    He  thus  wins  his  discharge.    Sometimes  there  seems 

the  form  of  a  note.  As  I  cannot  decipher  it,  I  quote  Herford's  Reading  (op.  cii^f 
288,  note).  "  This  Howleglasse,  with  Skoggin,  Skelton  and  Lazarillo,  given  to 
me  at  London,  of  Mr.  Spensar,  XX.  Dec.  1578,  on  condition  that  I  would  bestowe 
the  reading  of  them  on  or  before  the  first  of  January  immediately  ensuing;  other- 
wise to  forfeit  unto  him  my  Lucian  in  fower  volumes,  whereupon  I  was  the  rather 
induced  to  trifle  away  so  many  howers  as  were  idely  overpassed  in  running  thor- 
owgh  the  foresaid  foolish  bookes;  wherein  me  thought  that  not  all  fower  togither 
seemed  comparable  for  false  and  crafty  feates  with  Jon  Miller,  whose  witty  shiftes 
and  practices  are  reported  among  Skelton's  Tales."  Collier,  who  discovered  it, 
recognised  it  as  the  handwriting  of  Gabriel  Harvey  and  thought  it  alluded  to  the 
poet  Spenser.  I  can  do  no  better  than  quote  Herford's  comment:  "In  any 
case  it  is  a  contemporary  testimony,  of  some  interest,  assuming  of  course  that 
it  is  genuine, — a  proviso  never  quite  superfluous  where  Collier  b  concerned." 

>  For  a  discussion  of  the  place  of  the  English  version  in  the  whole  Eulenspiegel 
cycle,  see  Brie,  op.  cit.,  47-68.  The  discussion  of  the  relation  of  the  English  to  the 
German  version  of  Mumer  (?)  is  irrelevant  here. 

*The  historicity  of  the  character  does  not  concern  us  here.  I  am  using  the 
Ouvry  reprint  of  the  Copland  on  the  assumption  that  it  fairiy  correctly  supple- 
ments the  fragment  of  Doesborgh. 


412  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

to  be  some  motive,  that  he  is  imderfed,  or  in  some  way  feels  abused, 
or  is  promised  a  reward,  but  often  the  prank  seems  to  be  done  for 
the  pleasure  of  it.  As  after  each  performance  he  changes  his  sit- 
uation, all  classes  of  society  from  the  duke  to  the  peasant,  from  the 
pope  to  the  priest,  pass  in  review.  And  after  a  lifetime  of  practical 
joking,  he  dies  and  perpetrates  his  last  prank  by  his  will. 

The  avowed  object  of  the  collection  was  to  promote  merriment. 
As  Preface  states  it:  "This  fable  is  not  but  only  to  renewe  ye  mindes 
of  men  or  women,  of  all  degrees  from  ye  use  of  sadnesse  to  passe 
the  tyme,  with  laughter  or  myrthe,  And  for  because  ye  simple 
knowyng  persones  shuld  beware  if  folkes  can  see.  Me  thinke  it  is 
better  no  (to?)  passe  the  tyme  with  suche  a  mery  Jeste  and  laughe 
there  at  and  doo  no  synne:  than  for  to  wepe  and  do  synne."  The 
very  characters  are  represented  as  being  highly  amused  and  full 
of  admiration.  "And  when  that  the(y)  knewe  it  then  they  re- 
turned home  laughing,  and  praised  greatly  ye  falsenes  and  suttelty 
of  howleglas."  ^  Now,  of  all  forms  of  literary  composition,  works 
intended  for  humor  are  not  the  least  characteristic  of  the  race  and 
age.  In  the  other  forms  the  writer  may  preserve  a  false  appear- 
ance; though  ignorant,  with  a  little  skill  he  may  appear  learned, 
though  vulgar,  he  may  ape  elegance,  and  though  base,  he  may 
preach  morality.  And  the  reader,  too,  may  buy  the  book  from  a 
thousand  motives.  But  when  a  man  laughs  he  loses  control 
of  himself,  he  flings  dignity  to  the  winds  and  shows  his  own 
hidden  nature.  From  this  point  of  view  the  Howleglas  be- 
comes extraordinarily  interesting,  both  for  what  it  contains 
and  for  what  it  omits.  In  comparison  with  similar  collections 
of  the  Latin  countries  it  is  strikingly  free  from  the  erotic  ap- 
peal. In  the  Cent  Nouvelles  Nouvelles  a  large  proportion  of  the 
stories  turn  upon  the  erotic  where  man  is  frankly  the  hunter 
and  woman  his  game.  But  the  Eulenspiegel  came  to  England 
originally  from  the  Low  Countries  and  in  the  English  version 
at  least  bears  witness  to  a  sturdy  morality.^  The  English  is 
not  at  all  obscene.  But  on  the  other  hand  it  is  incredibly  and 
indescribably  filthy.  A  large  number  of  the  anecdotes  are  scatolog- 
ical. Whatever  point  there  may  be  seems  to  consist  in  the  delight 
in  presenting  coprolitic  detail.    In  Mackenzie's  edition  (1860)  the 

1  The  press  work  in  the  Coplaad  editions  is  abominable. 
»Cf.  pp.  17-18. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    413 

editor  speaks  of  his  interest  in  "the  humourous  quips  and  quiddi- 
ties of  the  strolling  vagabond,"  but  later  he  confesses  to  a  special 
duty  "viz.,  that  of  purification  and  modification,  for  it  may  readily 
be  believed  that  a  book  written  of  the  fourteenth  century,  for  the 
sixteenth  century,  would  abound  with  homely  wit,  not  quite  con- 
sonant with  the  ideas  of  the  nineteenth."  But  there  is  no  ques- 
tion here  of  time;  it  is  a  question  of  culture.  There  are  classes 
today  who  greet  such  anecdotes  with  approving  roars,  but  they 
are  not  to  be  found  among  the  most  cultured.  So  the  natural  de- 
duction is  that  in  the  sixteenth  century  such  classes  formed  a  large 
percentage  of  the  readers.  Rude  and  boisterous,  the  life  deadened 
their  sensibilities.  Their  nerves  required  strong  stimulus  to  cause 
them  to  react.  Stink  is  a  good  old  English  word  that  is  now  ban- 
ished from  polite  society,  together  with  the  conditions  it  implies. 
Both  the  word  and  the  fact,  as  is  shown  by  the  Howleglas,  were  in 
good  standing  in  the  sixteenth  century.  But  they  are  not  "im- 
moral;" it  is  "healthy"  dirt.  On  the  other  hand,  if  they  lack  the 
cynical  acuteness  of  the  novella  or  the  naughty  cleverness  of  the 
conte,  it  must  also  be  confessed  that  they  lack  equally  the  narrative 
art  of  either.  The  form,  the  expression,  and  the  substance  all 
alike  point  to  a  coarse,  uncultivated  age. 

Written  as  these  stories  were  solely  for  merriment,  I  fail  to  see 
any  satire  in  them.  Yet  clearly  they  approach  satire.  The  story, 
for  example,  where  the  crowd  collects  to  see  Howleglas  fly  from  the 
roof  of  the  town-hall  only  to  be  told  that  they  are  fools  to  believe  an 
impossibility,  or  the  one  of  the  painting  invisible  to  all  except  those 
of  pure  birth,  ^  may  be  so  construed,  but,  when  read  in  connec- 
tion with  the  others,  the  satire  seems  merely  a  bye-product.^ 
It  is  almost  invariably  associated  with  this  type  of  work.  The  un- 
conscious effort  of  the  author  of  the  Eidenspiegel  is  to  achieve 
humor  by  showing  reality.  To  do  this  he  paints  humanity  in  its 
weakness,  and  stresses  the  frailty.  Consequently  the  tone  is  mor- 
dant and  the  scene  disgusting.    There  is  no  elevation,  there  is  no 

'  ITiia  has  been  retold  by  Hans  Christian  Andersen. 

*  This  at  least  is  my  interpretation  even  in  those  stories  dealing  with  the  Church. 
They  were  written  long  before  the  Reformation.  Consequently  when  Howleglas 
plays  his  prank  upon  the  priest  and  his  maiden  or  palms  off  an  imitation  relic, 
there  is  no  indignation  at  the  state  of  affairs,  but  an  attempt  to  extract  humor 
from   accepted   conditions. 


414  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

thrill  in  the  reading  and  there  is  no  desire  to  imitate.  While  the 
chivalric  romance  may  be  absurd,  there  is  a  fine  side  to  its  absurd- 
ity. On  the  other  hand,  while  this  presentation  of  life  may  be  dis- 
gusting, at  least  it  does  not  shock.  Exactly  the  same  point  of  view 
may  be  brought  out  by  a  comparison  of  the  Dutch  painters.  A 
drunkard  by  Jan  Steen  is  not  ennobling,  and  there  is  no  satiric 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  painter,  but  at  least  he  has  caught  the  vital 
humanity.  Or,  to  illustrate  again,  compare  the  possible  treatment 
of  such  a  subject  as  the  capture  of  Ganymede  by  the  eagle  with 
that  by  Rembrandt.  The  painter  might  have  chosen  to  bring  out 
the  sheer  beauty  of  the  male  form  against  the  eagle's  feathers,  or 
he  might  have  developed  repugnant  eroticism;  actually  Rem- 
brandt's Ganymede,  in  defiance  of  all  mythology,  is  a  baby, — an 
utterly  terrified  baby  caught  up  by  an  eagle.  And  to  show  the 
terror  is  added  an  unnecessary  touch  of  realism.  It  is  this  love  for 
detail,  so  often  repugnant,  and  so  often  vital,  that  distinguishes  the 
Dutch  School,  and  that  has  caused  such  diversity  of  critical  opin- 
ion. Exactly  the  same  condition  is  brought  into  English  literature 
by  the  translation  of  Howleglas.  As  such,  it  by  no  means  lacks  im- 
portance. At  a  time  when  literature  under  the  chivalric  tradition 
presented  a  life  ideal,  but  out  of  sympathy  with  the  needs  of  the 
age,  and  when  Petrarchan  refinement  was  imposed  upon  a  brutal 
society,^  here  men  found  conditions  portrayed  with  perfect  frank- 
ness and  with  perfect  good  humor.  It  is  life  seen  from  the  under 
side.  Thus  it  contras  <:s  sharply  with  the  dreamy  idealism  of  Hawes 
and  the  Platonic  mysticism  of  Wyatt,  and  acts  as  a  needed  tonic. 
Literature  was  brought  down  to  earth  by  this  brand  made  in  Ger- 
many. 

The  Howleglas  thus  performs  the  function  of  modern  reahsm. 
Brie  is  correct  in  terming  it  the  first  realistic  novel  in  English.^  One 
personality  dominates  the  whole.  Occasional  minor  characters 
reappear.  Except  that  the  short  chapters  remain  undeveloped, 
there  is  a  structural  similarity  to  the  picaresque  rogue  stories.  It, 
therefore,  is  the  germ  from  which  much  later  sprang  the  novel  of 
indefinite  number  of  incidents,  held  together  by  the  bond  of  having 
a  single  hero, — such  as  Pickwick  Papers.  Of  course  it  is  the  germ 
only,  but  it  took  vigorous  hold.    During  the  second  half  of  the  cen- 

'  Henry's  love  letters  to  Anne  Boleyn  show  no  Platonism. 
*  Brie,  op.  cit.,  72. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    415 

tury  a  number  of  similar  collections  appeared,  the  merry  tales 
of  Skelton,  of  Scoggin,  of  George  Peele,  of  Tarleton,  of  Will  Som- 
mers,  etc.,  etc.  that  bear  witness  to  the  popularity  of  the  type. 
Whether  or  not  this  genre  might  not  have  arisen  spontaneously, 
is  beside  the  question;  the  fact  is  that  both  in  conception  and  form 
it  came  to  England  from  Germany, 

In  reviewing  as  a  whole  the  influence  of  the  Germanic  peoples 
upon  the  English  of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  among 
the  many  vague  and  shadowy  forms  only  two  stand  out  with  def- 
initeness  and  distinction,  Luther  and  the  anonymous  author  of 
the  Eulensjdegel.  The  first  impression  of  this  union  of  Luther 
and  Eulenspiegel  is  one  of  horrified  amazement.  It  seems  sacrilege 
to  place  them  thus  side  by  side,  that  there  can  be  no  quality  com- 
mon to  them  both,  that  it  is  a  paradox.  A  second  thought,  how- 
ever, gives  one  pause.  Each  in  utterly  different  spheres  was  try- 
ing to  present  the  truth  as  he  saw  it.  Before  this,  all  distinctions 
of  caste  and  rank  were  as  nothing.  Money  and  reputation  were 
not  considered.  Each  is,  therefore,  eminently  virile.  They  lack 
the  grace  of  ornament  and  the  power  of  phrase,  academic  distinc- 
tions of  form  to  such  men  seem  trifling.  They  care  only  for  the 
essential.  And,  therefore,  their  readers  to  a  large  measure  come 
from  the  same  class.  Foxe's  martyrs  may  be  imagined  taking  their 
pleasure  in  the  rough  foolery  of  the  Howleglas,  for  there  they 
would  find  the  same  defiance  of  convention  and  the  same  hatred 
of  sham.  The  comparison  must  not  be  pushed  far,  but  there  is  a 
side  in  which  there  is  a  similarity, — ^at  least  the  reader  feels  that 
they  belong  to  the  same  nation.  And  this  common  quality,  love 
of  truth,  or  courage  of  conviction, — call  it  what  you  will — is  the 
distinguishing  mark  of  the  influence  of  Germany  on  Tudor  Eng- 
land. 

With  Spain  and  Germany,  as  the  investigator  unconsciously  as- 
sumes that  there  will  be  no  influence  upon  England,  the  danger  is 
that  he  will  lose  sight  of  what  there  is;  in  the  case  of  France,  the 
danger  is  exactly  the  opposite,  for  of  all  the  nations  that  have  af- 
fected England  during  her  history  France  easily  takes  first  place. 
This  is  true  also  in  the  literary  relationship.  Literary  movements 
have  so  often  crossed  the  channel,  that  the  student  of  English 
must  reckon  with  France.  No  student  of  Pope  can  ignore  Boileau 
and  no  student  of  Hugo  can  forget  Shakespeare.     And  in  these 


416  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

literary  exchanges  it  is  usually  France  that  has  the  advantage. 
Particularly  is  this  true  as  we  go  back  to  the  early  times. 
Chaucer  acknowledged  a  debt  to  the  French,  while  his  influence 
upon  the  French  is  almost  negligible.  The  idea  that  in  France  we 
find  the  starting  point  for  Tudor  culture  comes  therefore  inevit- 
ably.i 

The  first  reason  for  such  a  conception  is  to  be  found  in  the  juxta- 
position of  the  two  countries.  When  Brittany  was  joined  to  the 
French  crown  by  the  marriage  of  Charles  with  Anne  in  1491,  the 
French  coast  paralleled  that  of  England  for  six  hundred  miles.  Of 
the  three  countries  that  geographically  bound  England,  the  ques- 
tion of  Irish  influence  may  be  dismissed.  By  Tudor  England,  Ire- 
land was  thought  of  very  much  as  our  grandfathers  thought  of  the 
Great  West.  English  government  and  English  law  reigned  spas- 
modically in  the  Pale;  beyond  that  was  a  wilderness  of  savages. 
The  time  was  not  yet  when  even  the  Irish  race  was  familiar  with 
its  own  literary  heritage,  and  that  English  literature  should  ever 
receive  inspiration  from  the  Gaelic  would  have  seemed  to  them 
incredible.  Even  Spenser  in  Ireland  always  turns  his  face  toward 
England.  Although  to  a  much  less  degree,  the  same  situation  holds 
in  regard  to  Scotland.  The  traditional  enmity  between  the  two 
countries,  which  had  been  covered  by  the  marriage  of  Margaret 
Tudor,  the  sister  of  Henry  VIII,  to  James  the  Fourth,  flamed  again 
at  Flodden  Field.  And  the  incessant  forays  on  the  Border,  while 
giving  subject  matter  for  ballads,  merely  intensified  the  general 
feeling.  The  two  countries  were  separated  by  a  sort  of  no-man's 
land.  And  as  in  addition  English  culture  tended  more  amd  more 
to  center  at  the  court  which  was  situated  at  London,  Scotland  was 
very  far  away.  Moreover  the  Scottish  writers,  Henryson,  Dun- 
bar, or  Gawin  Douglas,  however  individually  brilliant,  represent 
derivatives  from  Chaucer.  As  such  they  brought  no  new  impulse 
into  English,  and  in  cases  of  similarity  represent  common  inheri- 

^  Sir  Sidney  Lee  {The  French  Renaissance  in  England,  1910)  has  brilliantly 
expounded  this  view,  so  brilliantly  in  fact  that  his  work  is  not  quite  trustworthy. 
His  enthusiasm  leads  him  to  see  a  Frenchman  hiding  behind  every  bush.  It  must 
be  remembered  that  conditions  in  the  last  half  of  the  century  were  different  from 
those  in  the  first  half,  and  that  therefore  statements  true  of  the  second  half  do 
not  hold  for  the  first.  And  it  may  well  be  that  his  extensive  Shakespearean 
studies  have  thus  prevented  him  from  considering  early  Tudor  literature  im- 
partially. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    417 

tance  rather  than  literary  interchange.*  Consequently  the  near- 
est neighbor  to  Tudor  England  lay  across  the  Channel.  And,  al- 
though the  small  vessels  were  unsafe  for  long  journeys,  travel  by 
water  was  then  much  more  commodious,  more  expeditious  and 
less  dangerous.  Naturally  from  all  the  EngUsh  ports  to  the  cor- 
responding ones  on  the  French  side  there  was  a  continual  va-et- 
vient.  Still  more,  through  the  whole  of  this  period  (1346-1558)  the 
English  owned  Calais.  Here  in  times  of  peace,  and  especially  in 
times  of  war,  was  a  port  of  entry.  A  large  English  garrison  was 
stationed  there,  the  commander  of  which,  such  as  Lord  Bemers, 
had  the  leisure  to  translate  French  books.  Consequently,  from 
the  very  nature  of  the  geographical  relations  of  the  two  coun- 
tries, the  connection  was  intimate. 

From  this  geographical  situation  a  close  historical  relation- 
ship naturally  follows.  This  is  so  obvious  that  it  needs  no 
insistence.  The  battles  of  Crecy  and  Poitiers  and  Agincourt 
became  national  glories;  on  the  French  side,  equally,  Jeanne  d'Arc 
the  popular  national  heroine.  To  Tudor  England  a  foreign  war 
meant  the  invasion  of  France.  And  it  is  this  possibiUty  of  the  in- 
vasion of  France  that  is  the  keynote  to  the  foreign  policy  of  the  pe- 
riod. England  *s  value  to  Spain  lay  in  this  ability  to  hamper  France ; 
to  France,  that  it  freed  her  from  the  danger  to  her  rear  when  she 
was  engaged  with  Spain,  Consequently  both  the  Tudor  kings  led 
expeditions  across  the  Channel,  and  both  threatened  many  more 
than  they  led.  There  were  countless  embassies  to  discuss  state 
policies.  Gorgeously  gowned  envoys  passed  from  cai:)ital  to 
capital.  Of  these  the  most  striking  is  the  celebrated  interview 
between  Francis  I  and  Henry  VIII  in  1520,  the  "Field  of  the 
Cloth  of  Gold. "  However  futile  from  a  political  standpoint  may 
have  been  that  meeting,  or  other  functions  that  differed  from  it 
only  in  degree  and  in  gorgeousness,  they  must  have  served  to  bring 
the  great  retinues  of  the  contracting  parties  into  close  contact 
socially.  A  large  proportion  of  the  English  court  must  at  some 
time  have  been  in  France  and  have  known  Frenchmen  person- 
ally. An  event,  such  as  the  marriage  of  Mary  Tudor,  the  sister 
of  Henry  VIII,  to  Louis  XII  of  France,  affected  many  more  than 
the  bride.    Not  the  least  of  these  was  one  young  woman  destined 

*  Brie,  Skdlon-studien,  op.  cil.,  feels  that  he  has  shown  a  connection  between 
Skelton   and   Dunbar. 


418  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

to  play  a  conspicuous  role  in  the  history  and  consequently  the 
literature  of  England,  Anne  Boleyn.  With  her  alone  in  mind  there 
can  be  no  question  of  the  reality  of  French  influence! 

Much  less  dramatic  than  the  career  of  Anne  Boleyn,  but  much 
more  important  in  a  discussion  of  the  influence  of  French  literature 
upon  the  English,  is  the  early  history  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond, 
who  in  1485  became  Henry  the  Seventh.  At  the  time  of  his  as- 
sumption of  the  English  crown,  he  was  twenty-eight.  Of  these 
twenty-eight  years  the  last  fourteen,  half  his  life  up  to  that  time 
and  those  years  the  formative  half,  had  been  spent  as  an  exile  at  the 
courts  of  Brittany  and  of  France.  Leaving  England  at  the  age  of 
fourteen  he  had  thus  passed  the  whole  of  his  young  manhood  under 
French  influence.  Naturally  as  during  this  period  his  eyes  were 
turned  always  toward  England  these  years  did  not  make  him  a 
Frenchman;  equally  naturally,  however,  they  did  predispose  him 
in  favor  of  the  French  language  and  French  literature.  This  con- 
dition was  recognized  by  Bacon.^ 

He  was  rather  studious  than  learned;  reading,  for  the  most  part,  books  wrote 
in  French.  Yet  he  understood  Latin,  as  appears  from  hence,  that  Cardinal 
Hardian,  and  others  who  were  well  acquainted  with  French,  yet  always  wrote 
to  him  in  Latin. 

This  judgment  seems  to  be  borne  out  by  facts.  Although  Hawes 
was  Groom  of  the  Chamber,  the  chief  court  writer  seems  to  have 
been  Bernard  Andr6,  at  least  if  judged  by  the  payments  made  to 
him,^  and  he  seems  to  have  been  the  official  historiographer.' 
Andr6  is  the  blind  French  writer  who  is  the  only  contemporary 
authority  for  the  history  of  the  period.  He  seems  to  have  also 
taught  at  Oxford,  and  was  the  recipient  of  several  pensions.  His 
French  poems  have  all  disappeared,  except  one  incorporated  in  the 
body  of  his  Latin  annals,  and  perhaps  the  anonymous  Les  douze 

^  Francis  Bacon's  King  Henry  VII. 

^  On  New  Year's  Day  1506  he  was  given  100  shillings,  a  gift  that  was  repeated 
annually  until  1521. 

*  The  title  of  his  Life  of  Henry  VII  reads  Bernardi  Andreae  Tholosatis  Poetae 
Laureati,  Regit  Historiograpki  .  .  Memorials  of  King  Henry  the  Seventh,  ed.  by 
James  Gairdner  in  the  Rolls  Series.  Speed  is  the  first  to  make  the  confusion 
between  the  academic  degree  of  poet  laureate  in  the  case  of  Andr^  with  the  modem 
oflSce.      All  it  means  is  that,  like  Skelton,  he  had  taken  the  degree  of  poet  laureate. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    419 

triomphes  de  Henry  VII.  Consequently  these  two  are  interesting  as 
examples  of  the  sort  of  Hterature  encouraged  at  court.  The  same 
trend  toward  French  is  to  be  seen  in  Henry's  employment  of  Roger 
Machado  on  the  embassy  to  Spain  and  Portugal,  when  the  re- 
ports were  written  in  French.  And  also  his  extensive  patronage 
of  the  Parisian  printer  Verard  is  a  confirmatory  detail.  All  this 
merely  tells  what  we  should  have  deduced  from  Henry's  personal 
history.  His  long  residence  on  the  continent,  as  one  would  expect, 
gave  him  both  facility  in  reading  the  French  language  and  an  in- 
terest in  French  literature.  And  equally  naturally  such  an  in- 
terest would  have  affected  the  court  circles. 

The  particular  person  in  the  court  circle  primarily  affected  by 
this  semi-French  influence  was  the  most  influential  one  of  the  com- 
ing generation.  Prince  Henry,  Duke  of  York.  Andr6  was  the  tutor 
to  his  brother  Arthur,  and  may  perhaps  also  have  instructed  him. 
In  any  case  Henry  was  brought  up  with  a  speaking  knowledge  of 
French.^  More  to  the  point  he  apparently  essayed  French  verse.^ 
To  judge  from  the  specimens  that  survive  there  is  no  likelihood 
of  his  having  been  a  French  poet;  but  the  main  point  is  that  he  had 
the  inclination.  When  a  king  writes  French  verse  it  is  a  safe  as- 
sumption that  the  courtiers  follow  suit.  Thus  there  must  have 
been  considerable  French  verse  produced  at  the  Court.  Comysshe, 
the  Master  of  the  Royal  Chapel,  has  two  poems.  And  there  was 
a  fashion  of  working  in  French  lines  as  refrains,  and  French  phrases. 
Apparently  this  literary  mannerism  reflects  only  the  actual  habits 
of  the  age.  The  personal  rivalry  between  Henry  and  Francis 
showed  itself  in  magnificent  embassies  in  which  great  numbers 
participated.  Wolsey  went  to  France  with  a  train  of  six  hundred. 
To  build  the  meeting  place  of  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Grold  three 
thousand  workmen  were  sent  from  England,  and  practically  the 
whole  court  attended  the  ceremony.  A  fair  proportion  of  the  in- 
habitants of  London,  not  merely  of  the  Court,  must  have  been  fa- 
miliar to  some  extent  with  the  French  language  by  having  heard 
it  spoken  in  France.  Therefore  it  is  with  no  surprise  that  we  read 
that  at  the  entertainment  of  the  French  ambassadors  the  ladies 

» Cf .  p.  44. 

'  In  Anglia  12,  281  Ewald  FlUgel  has  published  the  so-called  "  royal  manu- 
script" (Add.  MS.  31922,  British  Museum),  in  which  are  found  two  French  songs 
by  Henry  himself. 


420  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

dancing  with  the  strangers  spoke  French.^  A  quarter  of  a  century 
later  Nisander Nucius  states:  "Les  Anglois  se  servant  presque  tous 
du  langage  frangois,"  ^  This  is  certainly  an  exaggeration.  But 
without  multiplying  illustrations  ad  naitseam,  it  seems  certain  that 
French  was  quite  generally  known,  probably  very  much  as  it  is 
today,  in  England.  It  was  considered  as  a  polite  accomplishment. 
But  whereas  today  French  is  paired  with  German,  then  it  was 
paramount.  After  Latin,  a  speaking  and  reading  knowledge  of 
which  was  essential  to  an  educated  gentleman,  French  without  any 
doubt  was  the  foreign  language  best  known. 

The  most  obvious  proof  of  this  assertion  is  to  be  found  in  the 
language  used  in  the  writing  of  the  time.  According  to  the  pre- 
cepts of  Medieval  Latin,  it  will  be  remembered,^  the  introduction 
of  a  word  from  a  foreign  language  was  regarded  as  an  ornament. 
Scholastically  of  course  such  words  were  drawn  from  the  Latin,  but 
in  court  circles  a  large  number  were  taken  from  the  French.  Thus 
Cavendish,  for  example,  uses  such  phrases  as  "for  his  depeche"  * 
"their  hault  brags,"  ^  although  it  seemed  to  others  very  "difficile"  ^ 
and  "puissant  army.""  With  him  the  substitution  of  a  French 
word  for  its  English  equivalent  imparts  a  noticeable  piquancy  to 
his  style.  His  mannerism  is  the  more  interesting  because  there  is 
no  exigency  due  to  the  difl&culties  of  meter  or  rime.  The  French 
words  are  used  for  their  own  sakes.  It  is  allowable  therefore  to  as- 
sume that  in  the  poetry  much  the  same  is  true.  When  Skelton, 
for  example,  says  ® 

Your  brethe  yt  ys  so  felle 
And  so  puauntdy  dothe  smelle. 
And  so  haynnously  doth  stynke.  .  .  . 

he  is  consciously  contrasting  the  elegant  French  with  the  homely 
English  for  a  comic  effect.  This  use  of  French  to  express  social 
distinction  may  perhaps  be  better  illustrated  by  Barclay  since  we 
have  the  Latin  originals  for  his  Eclogues.  iEneas  Sylvius  is  dis- 
cussing the  fine  white  wheaten  bread  served  to  the  master.^ 

panem  ante  dominum  niveum  ac  molli  siligine  factum  aspicies  .  .  . 

^  Cavendish,  Life  of  Wolsey,  op.  cit.,  88.  *  Op.  cit.,  7. 

'  Travels,  Camden  Society,  13.  •  Op.  cit.,  15. 

»  Cf.  section  4,  p.  137.  «  Skelton,  op.  cit.,  1,  124. 

'  Barclay,  Eclogues,  1,  863,  865.  For  these  illustrations  I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  J. 
R.  Schultz,  who  has  prepared  an  edition  of  the  Eclogues. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    421 

But  for  tliis  bread  there  was  no  English  equivalent. 

When  thou  beholdest  before  thy  lorde  pein  mayne.  .  . 
If  thou  our  manchet  dare  handle.  .  . 

Still  more  curious  is  his  line  ^ 

For  lyse,  for  fleas,  punatses,  myse  and  rattes.  .  .  . 

Evidently  the  bed-bug  had  not  yet  been  domesticated  in  England. 
Clearly  for  certain  nouns  the  French  word  was  accepted,  just  as 
for  the  table  set  by  the  king  the  usual  term  was  houche,  or  as  Skel- 
ton  spells  it,  bowge.  This  does  not  show  that  the  individual  was 
importing  new  words;  the  custom  is  too  general.  For  certain 
things  either  unknown  in  England,  or  associated  with  France,  the 
French  expression  was  taken  over  bodily;  other  expressions  were 
current,  when  for  variety  or  elegance  the  French  was  preferred 
to  the  English.  In  other  words,  the  condition  then  was  similar 
to  that  today.  We  use  chauffeur  or  garage  because  the  automobile 
was  first  perfected  in  France,  and  we  also  use  joie  de  vivre,  bon 
voyage,  and  respondez  s'il  vou^  platt  for  cultural  or  social  reasons. 
The  great  difference  then  and  now  lies  in  the  fact  that  our  vocab- 
ulary draws  upon  so  many  languages,  while  then  of  the  modern  lan- 
guages French  was  vastly  predominant.  And  it  is  to  be  remarked 
that,  in  contrast  to  the  importations  from  the  Latin,  the  French 
words  have  failed  to  maintain  their  place.  Either  the  condition 
that  caused  them  has  disappeared,  or  the  fashion  changed.  Con- 
sequently the  vocabulary  of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century 
seems  to  a  modem  reader  curiously  Gallic.  As  such,  it  testifies 
to  the  continual  intercommunication  between  the  two  countries. 
Up  to  this  point  our  researches  have  yielded  definite  results. 
But  when  we  come  to  discuss  the  effect  of  French  literature  upon 
the  literature  of  England,  the  clarity  yields  place  to  confusion. 
Theoretically  in  literature  also,  French  influence  should  be  at 
least  as  evident  as  it  is  in  the  Chaucerian  period,  or  in  the  Restora- 
tion. Actually  it  is  not.  And  the  first  reason  why  it  is  not  is  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  contemporary  French  literature  itself  was  not 
unified.  There  was  no  dominant  critical  theory  with  a  definite 
propaganda,  as  later  is  to  be  found  in  the  Pldiade,  in  Malherbe, 
or  in  Boileau.  In  France,  as  in  England,  it  was  a  period  of  transi- 
tion, during  which  at  least  three  completely  different  tyi>es  of 
>  Barclay,  op.  cit  S,  78. 


422  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

poetry  existed  side  by   side,   though  not  in   harmony.     And  at 
least  two  of  the  three  affected  the  English. 

The  first  of  these  three  types  of  poetry  corresponds  to  that  de- 
veloped in  England  by  the  scholastic  tradition.  In  the  discussion 
of  that  ^  there  was  an  attempt  to  show  the  development  of  the 
Medieval  Latin  influence  upon  early  EngUsh  poetry,  because, 
owing  to  the  change  in  the  language,  there  was  no  Uterary  con- 
tinuity. The  effect  of  these  theories  upon  English  so  far  as  the 
present  purpose  is  concerned,  was  for  a  comparatively  brief  period. 
But  in  France  there  was  no  such  break.  A  theory  of  poetic  com- 
p)osition  naturally  similar  to  the  theories  of  the  Medieval  Latin  was 
gradually  formed,  by  Deschamps,  by  Montmerqu^-Didot  and 
by  Baudet  Herenc.  With  the  growing  stability  of  the  monarchy 
under  Louis  XI,  it  would  be  natural  to  suppose  that  there  would 
be  an  increase  in  literary  output  and  an  increased  interest  in  lit- 
erary theory.  Therefore  it  is  not  surprising  to  find  Verard  printing 
such  works.^  In  1493  he  issued  the  Art  et  science  de  rhethorique  by 
Henri  de  Croy(?)  and  in  1500-1503  the  Jardin  de  Plaisance  etfleur 
de  Reihoricque  by  an  unknown,  who  signs  himself  L'Infortun6. 
This  last  was  reprinted  in  1504.  Then  in  1521  Fabri  published  Le 
Grand  et  Vrai  Art  de  Pleine  Rhetorique,  in  which  the  last  two  are 
drawn  upon.^  This  in  turn  went  through  six  editions.  In  Fabri, 
then,  will  be  found  the  most  complete  exposition  of  the  theory  of 
the  regular  school,  previous  to  Marot,  Les  grands  rhetoriqueurst 
Meschinot,  Molinet,  Cretin,  Jean  Marot,  and  LeMaire  de  Beige. 
Here  this  type  had  developed  much  farther  than  the  corresponding 
form  in  England.  The  emphasis  originally  laid  upon  form  had 
turned  poetic  composition  into  a  game  of  verbal  ingenuity.  Brun- 
eti^re  thus  questions  them:  * 

Already  prosaic  with  Alain  Chartier,  poetry  with  these  writers  becomes  pre- 
tentiously didactic.  Were  they  alive  to  the  fact  themselves;  and,  being  unable 
to  make  their  poetry  beautiful,  was  it  for  this  reason  that  they  made  it  "artificial" 
by  overloading  it  with  infinite  complications  and  regrettable  ornament? 

1  Chapter  III. 

*  These  bibUographical  details  are  taken  from  Antoine  Verard  by  John  Mac- 
farlane,  printed  for  the  Bibliographical  Society,  London  1900. 

'  This  has  been  edited  with  an  introduction,  notes  and  glossary  by  A.  H6ron, 
Rouen,  1890. 

*  Manvxtl  of  the  History  of  French  Literature  by  Ferdinand  Bruneti^re,  authorized 
translation  by  Ralph  Derechef,  p.  32. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    423 

The  answer  to  the  question  is  No!  What  Brunetiere  considers 
ornament,  to  them  was  the  essential.  Fabri  gives  elaborate  rules 
by  which  pleasing  verbal  curiosities  may  be  produced.  As  a  head- 
ing to  his  chapter  De  pliisieurs  sortes  de  rithme,  he  lists  rithme 
leonine,  rithme  croisee,  rithme  enchainee,  rithme  de  basse  en- 
chaineure,  anadiplosis  ou  gradation,  epanalepsis,  rithme  entre- 
lachee,  rithme  annexe,  rithme  couronnee,  rithme  basse  couronnee, 
and  rithme  retrograde.  Clearly  it  is  the  form  and  not  the  content 
that  is  the  object;  that  is,  the  writer  did  not  desire  to  write  a  poeva. 
on  Spring  in  the  form  basse  enchaineure,  but  he  chose  to  write  a 
poem  in  the  form  basse  enchaineure  and  the  subject  was  immaterial. 
As  Fabri  was  judge  at  the  great  poetic  competitions  held  at  Rouen, 
his  point  of  view  must  be  accepted  as  that  commonly  held.  In 
such  competitions,  held  in  the  various  literary  centers,  clearly  it  was 
verbal  dexterity  that  won  the  prize.  Or  in  the  numerous  bouts- 
rimes,  where  the  test  consisted  in  composing  a  poem  with  all  the 
riming  words  given,  the  same  is  true.  But  clearly  this  represents  a 
stage  more  advanced  than  that  in  England.  Compared  to  this 
elaboration  the  English  writers  are  mere  tyros.  Nor  is  there  much 
possibility  of  French  influence.  The  English  scholastics  normally 
went  back  to  the  Medieval  Latin;  these  French  subtleties  were 
beyond  them.^    Consequently  for  the  first  part  of  Tudor  literature 

*  This  is  certainly  true  for  the  writers  of  the  rime  ^uivoqu^,  such  as  Cretin, 
Jean  Marot,  and  even  Clement  Marot  in  some  of  his  eariy  work.  In  poems  of 
this  type  the  riming  words  are  identical  in  sound,  but  differ  in  sense, — a  trick 
in  English  called  a  pun  and  used  only  for  humor.  In  these  men  the  pun  became 
the  basic  principle  of  verse.  Cretin  "souverain  Po6te  Francois,"  writes  to  the 
Bishop  of  Glandeves  {Lea  Poesies  de  Ouillaume  Cretin,  Paris  1723,  p.  245), 

Si  lea  escriptz  que  bons  amys  transmettent 

De  moys  en  moys,  &  d'an  en  aultre  an  mettent. 

Amour  au  cueurs  de  cculx  od  sont  transmis 

Pose  encore  qu'  on  y  cut  quatrc  ans  mys; 

Quant  Poste  arrive,  &  porte  erre  nouvelle, 

L'affection,  sans  doubter,  renouvelle, 

Et  au  recueil  n  'entend,  fors  de  viser 

L'amy  pensant  &  I'amy  diviser. 

Si  que  aouvent  en  visitant  la  lettre, 

Visiblcment  cuyde  avoir  I'ocil  a  I'estre 

De  sa  presence,  &  croit  ouyr  le  son 

Du  sien  parler,  qui  retient  pour  IcQon.  etc. 


424  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  influence  of  French  rhetorical  poetry  may  be  regarded  as  neg- 
ligible. 

The  second  type  of  poetry  persisting  in  France  in  the  early  years 
of  the  sixteenth  century  is  the  allegorical  poem.    The  great  medi- 

Jean  Marot  also  has  poems  of  this  sort  (Oeuvres  de  Clement  Marot  et  AugmerUeSs 
avec  le*  Ouvrages  de  Jean  Marot  son  Pere  ...  A  la  Haye  1731,  Vol.  5,  p.  286.) : 

Faux  detracteurs  &  Ungues  de  lezars. 

Qui  de  mesdire  scavez  trop  bien  les  ars 

Pensez  en  vous,  &  vous  trouverez  que  estes 

Piresque  nous,  si  bien  faictes  les  questes: 

Trop  le  demonstre  vostre  cueur  faulx  &  lasche. 

Qui  sans  cesser  de  mesdire  ne  lasche 

Vous  qui  deussiez  nostre  honneur  maintenir 

A  nous  blasmer  voulez  la  main  tenir 

Contre  raison,  car  les  droitz  n'ont  permis 

Que  nostre  honneur  soit  de  vous  apart  mis  .  .  . 

This  desire  for  identity  in  sound  led  to  the  employment  of  the  triple  rime,  so 
characteristic  of  LeMaire.  And  the  importance  of  this  is  that  these  writers  are 
the  immediate  predecessors  and  models  of  the  brilliant  Clement  Marot  as  he 
tells  us  himself.     In  Complainte  V,  dated  1543,  the  famous  old  Gallic  poets  are: 

Adonques  Molinet 
Aux  vers  fleuris,  le  grave  Chastellain, 
Le  bien  disant  en  rithme  et  prose  Alain, 
Les  deux  Grebans,  au  bien  resonnant  stile, 
Octavian,  d,  la  veine  gentile, 
Le  bon  Cretin  aux  vers  6quivoqu^, 
Ton  Jehan  le  Maire,  entre  eulx  hault  colloqu^, 
Et  moy,  ton  p^re.  .  .  . 

The  natural  result  was  that  his  early  work  shows  their  influence.  In  his  Epistre 
au  Roy  (dated  by  Guiffrey  toward  the  end  of  1517  or  the  beginning  of  1518)  he 
shows  what  he  can  do : 

En  m'esbatant  ie  fay  rondeaulx  en  rithme, 

Et  en  rithmant,  bien  souuent  ie  m'enrime: 

Brief,  c'est  piti6  d 'entre  vous,  rithmaiileurs. 

Car  vous  trouuez  assez  de  rithme  ailleurs, 

Et  quand  vous  plaist  mieulx  que  moy  rithmassez: 

Des  biens  auez  &  de  la  rithme  assez: 

Mais  moy,  atout  ma  rithme  &  ma  rithmaille, 

Ie  ne  soustiens  (dont  ie  suy  marry)  maille. 

Or  ce  me  dit  (un  iour)  quelcque  rithmart; 

Viens  ga,  Marot,  trouues  tu  en  rithme  art 

Qui  serue  aux  gens,  toy  qui  a  rithmass6? 

Ouy  vrayement  (respond  ie),  Henry  Mace.  .  .  .  Guiflfrey's  ed.3,  21. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    425 

eval  representative  of  this  is,  of  course,  the  Roman  de  la  Rose. 
From  this  as  a  convenient  parent  may  be  traced  a  formal  literary 
tradition  in  both  countries.^  Naturally  there  is  a  strong  resem- 
blance between  these  literary  cousins,  and  still  more  naturally  the 
French  poem  would  lend  itself  to  translation.  And,  since  the  gen- 
eral type  was  common  to  both  languages,  it  needed  only  slight 
adaptation  to  make  the  translation  read  like  an  original  English 
work.  That  this  is  not  mere  hypothesis  is  shown  by  the  history  of 
the  Castle  of  Labour.^    Freed  from  assumptions,  the  facts  are  these. 

In  his  epigram  A  un  NommS  Charon  he  has  an  example  of  rime  enchain^  (quant  le 
terme  equiuoque  termine  une  ligne  et  iceluy  terms  equiuoquement  pris  recommence 
la  prochaine  ligne,  Fabri,  2,  41): 

Mets  voille  au  vent,  single  vers  nous,  Charon, 

Car  on  t'attend:  puis  quand  seras  en  tente, 

Tant  et  plus  boy  bonum  vinum  ckarum, 

Qu'aurons  pour  vray:  donques  (sans  longue  attente) 

Tente  tes  piedz  &  si  decente  sente 

Sans  te  fascher,  mais  en  sois  content,  tant 

Qu'en  ce  faisant  noua  le  soyons  autant. 

It  seems  quite  clear  that  as  the  art  in  work,  of  which  these  are  examples,  is  purely 
verbal,  it  is  not  capable  of  translation.  On  the  other  hand  the  root  of  the  man- 
nerism is  to  be  found  in  the  Medieval  Latin  (ante,  pages  124  ff).  Conse- 
quently, when  in  Tottel  (132)  we  find  the  poem. 

The  lenger  lyfe,  the  more  offence: 
The  more  offence,  the  greater  payn: 
The  greater  payn,  the  lesse  defence: 
The  lesse  defence,  the  lesser  gayn. 
The  losse  of  gayn  long  yll  doth  trye: 
Wherefore  come  death,  and  let  me  dye. 
The  shorter  life,  lesse  count  I  fynde: 
The  lesse  account,  the  sooner  made: 
The  count  soon  made,  the  meryer  minde: 
The  raery  minde  doth  thought  euade. 
Short  lyfe  in  truth  this  thing  doth  trye: 
Wherefore  come  death,  and  let  me  dye.  .  .  . 

it  seems  an  attempt  to  apply  the  old  rules  rather  than  copy  the  French.  The 
characteristic  punning  of  the  French  verse  is  here  completely  lacking. 

'  Cf.  pp.  60  ff.  for  the  English  development. 

*  The  CcutUll  of  Labour,  translated  from  the  French  of  Pierre  Oringoire  by  Alexander 
Barclay,  reprinted  in  facsimile  from  Wynkyn  de  Worde't  Edition  of  1606  with  the 
French  text  of  31  March,  1501  and  an  introduction  by  Alfred  W.  Pollard— Edin- 
burgh— Privately  printed  for  presentation  to  the  Members  of  the  Roxburghe  CUib, 


426  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

In  October,  1499,  a  re-working  of  a  fourteenth  century  poem, 
Bruyant's  Le  Chemin  de  Povrete  et  de  Richesse,  was  published  by 
Simon  Vostre  and  printed  by  Philippe  Pigouchet.  This  is  signed 
in  the  first  verse  of  the  last  speech  of  the  Acteur  by  Gringoire.  This 
was  reprinted  31  December,  1499,  31  May,  1500,  and  5  November, 
1500,  by  Jacques  le  Forestier  at  Rouen.  Thus  at  the  opening  of  the 
century  there  were  three  Parisian  editions  and  one  at  Rouen.  In 
the  next  Parisian  edition,  31  March,  1500-1,  between  the  prologue 
and  the  poem  proper  is  inserted  a  long  interpolation,  (lines  74-655), 
describing  the  education  of  the  hero.  Antoine  V^rard,  who  had 
already  enjoyed  the  patronage  of  the  English  Court,  brought  out 
an  English  translation  of  this  popular  French  poem,  the  Castle  of 
Labour.^  This  was  reprinted  in  London  by  Pynson  (c.  1505),  by 
Wynkyn  de  Worde  1506,  and  again  by  de  Worde  (c.  1510). ^  The 
poem  then  was  exceedingly  popular  with  five  editions  in  the  original 
French  and  four  in  the  English  translation.  So  far  we  are  dealing 
with  facts. 

Unhappily  that  is  as  far  as  the  facts  carry  us!  The  EngHsh  ver- 
sion by  Verard  is  both  undated  and  unsigned.  For  the  date  there 
is  one  indication.  The  long  interpolation,  (lines  74-655),  although 
the  translation  is  usually  close,  in  the  English  edition  is  omitted. 
The  probable  inference  is  that  it  was  made  from  one  of  the  first  four 
of  the  French  editions,  i.  e.  before  31  March  1500-01,  but  it  is  infer- 
ential, because  considerations  of  which  we  know  nothing  may  have 
dictated  the  omission.  If  it  be  true,  it  places  the  date  of  composi- 
tion not  later  than  the  year  1500.  This  date  practically  rules  out 
Alcock  as  a  possible  author  as  he  died  that  year.^  That  a  French 
poem  published  as  late  as  October,  1499,  should  have  reached  an 
English  bishop,  be  translated  by  him  as  he  was  dying,  and  be  re- 
turned to  France,  while  not  impossible,  yet  requires  proof  before 
it  be  accepted.    The  other  claimant  is  Alexander  Barclay.    Bale 

1905.  Sixty  copies  only  printed.  One  is  torn  between  gratitude  towards  the  Rox- 
burghe  Club  that  their  publications  are  printed  at  all,  and  irritation  that  the 
editions  are  so  limited  that  copies  are  almost  inaccessible. 

^The  fragments  were  identified  by  Mr.  E.  Gordon  Duff. 

*  In  the  article  on  Alcock,  D.  N.  B.  Professor  Mullinger  mentions  an  edition 
by  de  Worde  1536;  this  must  be  a  misprint  for  1506. 

'  Professor  Mullinger  (article  Alcock  D.  N.  B.)  states  this  on  the  authority 
of  Cooper,  Athena  Cantabrigiensis,  ed.  1858,  Vol.  1,  pp.  3-4.  I  do  not  know 
Cooper's  authority. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    427 

lists  it  among  his  works  without  comment  or  question.  And 
Pollard's  attitude^ — 'The  attribution  of  the  translation  to  him 
rests  on  the  statement  of  Bale,  which  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt' — 
expresses  the  consensus  of  scholarly  opinion.^  Yet  a  doubt  arises 
from  the  impUcation  of  his  own  words.  In  his  dedication  of  the 
Ship  of  Fools,  'translated  the  yere  of  our  Lorde  god,  M.ccccc.viii,' 
he  says:* Opus  igitur  tue  patemitati  dedicaui:  meorum  primicias 
laborura  qui  in  lucem  eruperunt' — &  statement  that,  if  he  were  the 
author  of  a  poem  which  had  just  gone  through  four  editions,  would 
be  a  gratuitous  falsehood,  unexplainable  by  any  lapse  of  memory. 
Moreover,  as  he  was  at  that  time  serving  as  chapLain  to  the  Thomas 
Cornish  ^  to  whom  the  Ship  of  Fools  is  dedicated,  such  falsification 
for  the  purpose  of  flattery  would  be  a  somewhat  dangerous  pro- 
ceeding. On  the  other  hand.  Bale's  method  in  compiling  his  lists 
is  seen  in  his  autograph  notebook,^  taking  the  items  which  he 
gathered  from  various  sources  and  then  striking  out  apparent 
duplicates.  The  uncritical  nature  of  this  process  in  the  case  of 
Barclay  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  in  the  final  result  the  Eclogues 
app)ear  four  times  as  four  separate  works.  That  Barclay  was  the 
author  of  the  Castle  of  Labour  is  given  in  only  one  of  the  original 
lists.  Therefore  in  opp>osition  to  Barclay's  own  statement  this 
attribution  rests  upon  the  unsupported  authority  of  "loannes 
Alen,"  of  whom  we  know  nothing  but  that  he  is  twice  labelled  "a 
painter."  So  far  as  the  external  evidence  of  Barclay's  authorship 
be  concerned,  it  is  almost  negligible. 

Internal  evidence  is,  of  course,  a  more  difficult  question,  since 
the  poem  is  a  translation,  quite  exact  when  the  difficulty  of  trans- 
ferring a  complicated  stanza-form  from  French  to  English  is  con- 
sidered. That  is  what  is  done  here.  The  rime  scheme  of  the  origi- 
nal is  what  is  called  in  English  the  "Monk's  Tale"  stanza,  from 

^  Pollard,  op.  cit.,  xxxvii. 

*  Bale  has  been  followed  by  Dempster,  Pitts,  Wood,  Warton,  the  Btographia 
Britannica,  Herbert  Ames  and  Dibdin,  Jusserand,  Ward  (in  the  D.  N.  B.)  and 
by  the  last  edition  of  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica. 

» Thomas  Cornish  had  been  Provost  of  Oriel  College,  Oxford.  1492/S-1507, 
and  Suffragan  to  Richard  Fox  and  Hugh  Oldham,  Bishops  of  Bath  and 
Wells,  with  the  title  Bishop  of  Tyne  1486-1513.  According  to  the  Preface  it  is 
on  account  of  the  latter  dignity  that  the  Ship  oj  Fools  waa  dedicated  to 
him. 

*  Index  Brilannia  Scriptorum,  Oxford,  1902. 


428  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Chaucer's  use  of  it  there. ^  The  lines  are  octosyllabic.  In  both 
these  respects  the  translator  has  followed  his  original.  Naturally 
although  he  is  unable  to  preserve  all  in  the  French  poem,  he 
makes  a  loyal  attempt.  The  first  two  stanzas  may  be  cited  to 
show  his  method. 

Cotemplant  vng  soir  a  par  moy 
Euz  d'ung  prouerbe  souuenance. 
Que  qui  met  vng  fol  a  par  soy 
II  pence  de  luy  sans  doubtance, 
Et  lors  me  vint  en  remembrance — 
Pensant  a  plusieurs  dignitez — 
Que  I'homme  qui  a  suffisance 
Met  hors  de  son  cueur  vanitez. 

Vous  congnoissez  bien  que  ieunnesse 
Est  tres  dangereuse  a  passer; 
L'ung  vit  en  ioye  et  en  liesse, 
L'aultre  taiche  biens  amasser. 
On  voit  le  ieune  trespasser 
Comme  le  vieil;  mort  nul  ne  lache. 
Pour  nostre  cas  bien  compasser. 
Aussi  tost  meurt  veau  comme  vache. 

In  musynge  an  euenynge  with  me  was  none 
An  olde  prouerbe  came  in  me  subuenaimce 
A  naturall  foole  in  a  house  alone 
Wyl  make  for  hymself  shyft  or  cheuysaunce 
Than  came  in  to  my  remembraunce 
A  cyrcunspect  of  many  dygnytees 
Fro  whiche  a  man  hauynge  suffysaunce 
Withdraweth  his  herte  as  fro  vanytees 

It  is  ay  sene  that  youthes  lustynesse 
For  to  subdue  is  harde  and  daungerous 
Some  lyue  in  ioye/  pleasure  and  gladnesse 
Fortune  to  some  is  ryght  contraryous 
Some  dethe  tacheth  in  theyr  estate  prosperous 
Whome  he  ouerthroweth  with  his  mortall  blast 
Thus  goeth  the  worlde/  none  is  so  curous 
But  other  must  he  dye  fyrst  or  last. 

A  comparison  of  these  two  passages  shows  clearly  that  the  trans- 
lator aims  to  transfer  not  only  the  stanza-form  and  the  line,  but 

^  A  curious  fatality  has    followed    this    poem !     It  is  invariably  described,  if 
at  all,  as  having  been  written  in  seven-lined  stanzas. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    429 

even,  when  possible,  the  very  words.  ^  But  this  is  very  different 
from  Barclay's  manner  as  we  know  it  from  works  definitely  his.'^ 
If  this  poem  were  certainly  proved  to  be  his  work,  it  would  be  an 
interesting  speculation  why  he  so  completely  changed  his  theory 
of  translation;  as  the  external  evidence  is,  on  the  contrary,  slight, 
such  a  change  argues  only  that  John  Allen  was  mistaken,  and  after 
him  Bale,  Dempster,  Pitts,  Wood,  etc.,  etc.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  Barclay  is  not  the  translator  of  the  Castle  of  Labour. 

But  with  the  phantom  Barclay  laid  to  rest,  the  real  question 
comes  to  the  fore,  what  is  the  significance  of  this  poem  as  an  il- 
lustration of  the  influence  of  French  Uterature  upon  the  English. 
To  answer  this  requires  a  brief  analysis.  The  ego  of  the  poem, 
while  his  wife  is  asleep  beside  him  in  bed,  is  visited  by  worries. 
Poverty,  Necessity,  Distress,  Thought,  Heaviness,  Discomfort, 
etc.,  each  personified.  A  beautiful  lady.  Reason,  puts  them  to 
flight,  and  tells  him  how  to  rout  them.  Then  Wisdom  comes  to 
give  him  good  advice.  Eventually  he  brings  with  him  Good  Heart, 
Good  Will,  and  Lust  To  Do  Good.  They  lead  him  to  Business, 
who  guides  him  to  the  Castle  of  Labour,  after  meeting  Pain  and 
Cure.  After  working  in  the  Castle,  he  returns  to  upbraid  his  wife, 
first  because  she  was  asleep  and  secondly  because  she  was  of  no 
account  anyway.    Such  is  the  substance  of  the  poem. 

From  this  digest  we  are  at  once  conscious  of  the  medieval  quality 
of  the  poem.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the  version  by  Gringoire  is  only 
a  re- working  of  the  poem  written  by  Jehan  Bruyant  in  1342.'  The 
story  seems  medieval,  for  the  excellent  reason  that  it  is  medieval. 
But  so  also  is  the  form.    Here  is  the  dream-structure,  the  allegory, 

*  Pollard,  p.  xl,  comments  on  the  scansion:  "The  modem  reader  who  expects 
to  find  all  the  lines  of  a  stanza  of  equal  length,  or  of  different  lengths  arranged  in 
a  fixed  order,  may  look  askance  at  the  suggestion  that  Barclay  normally  uses 
lines  of  four  accents,  but  mixes  with  them  (especially  towards  the  beginning  of 
his  poem)  others  of  a  slower  movement  with  five.  Yet  this  is  what  Barclay 
found  when  he  read  Chaucer,  as  he  must  have^done,  in  the  editions  of  Caxton, 
Pynson,  or  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  and  I  believe  that  he  accepted  these  alternations 
as  a  beauty,  and  one  which  should  be  imitated."  I  question  thb.  These  lines 
become  octosyllabic  by  stressing  the  accents  without  regard  to  the  syllables, 
in  accordance  with  the  English  adaptation  of  the  principles  of  the  Medieval  Latin — 
Cf.  pp.  145-147.  The  French  at  the  close  has  a  number  of  seveu-lineU  stanzas — 
a  characteristic  faithfully  followed  by  the  English. 

'  P.  £49. 

'  For  Griogoire's  iudebledueaii  to  Bruyant  see  Pollard,  op  eit.,  xxvii-xzziy. 


430  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

and  the  personification.  This  type  of  poem  had  persisted  in  Eng- 
land for  a  hundred  years.  And  to  make  perfectly  evident  that 
the  translator  intended  no  innovation,  instead  of  translating  Grin- 
goire's  final^prayer,  he  added  the  conventional  Lydgatian  apology. 

Go  forth  small  treatyse  I  humbly  the  present 
Unto  the  reders  as  indygne  of  audyence.  .   . 

After  this  it  is  without  surprise  that  we  read  there  is  "lacke  of 
eloquence,"  that  he  is  following  the  steps  of  those  who  write  "craft- 
ely,"  but  that  his  language  is  "rude"  and  that  he  has  smelled 
the  "floures"  of  "parfyte  eloquence."  Aside  from  the  fact  that  a 
poem  of  this  type  was  usually  written  in  the  rime-royal,  there  is 
nothing  to  suggest  that  the  Castle  of  Labour  was  not  indigenous. 
And  this  probably  explains  both  its  translation  and  its  subsequent 
popularity.  Poems  such  as  this  were  translated,  because  to  the 
readers  they  seemed  English.  They  seemed  English,  because  to 
all  intents  and  purposes  they  were  indistinguishable  from  exactly 
similar  poems  written  in  England.  Consequently,  except  for  the 
occasional  French  word  introduced,  French  influence  on  this 
count,  also,  seems  slight. 

The  third  type  of  French  poetry,  like  the  second,  derived 
from  the  Roman  de  la  Rose,  in  point  of  view,  though  not  in 
form.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  peculiarity  of  that 
poem  consists  in  its  having  been  written  by  two  poets  and 
with  two  antithetic  points  of  view.  The  first  part  by  Guillaume 
de  Lorris  is  the  allegorical  convention.  From  this  come  the  vari- 
ous allegorical  poems  already  discussed,^  of  which  the  Castle  of 
Labour  is  a  specimen.  But  the  second  author,  Jean  de  Meung, 
turned  toward  satire.  Whereas  the  first  part  aims  at  beauty,  the 
second  aims  at  brilliancy,  and  whereas  the  first  is  emotional,  the 
second  is  intellectual  in  its  appeal.  In  all  probability  this  com- 
bination caused  the  poem  to  be  so  immensely  popular.  But  in 
England  it  was  the  first  part  only  that  had  much  effect.  That  had 
been  translated  by  Chaucer,  and  imitated,  not  only  by  him,  but 
also  by  his  successors.  During  the  fifteenth  century  English 
writers  for  the  most  part  took  themselves  and  their  work  seriously; 
their  satire  turns  to  preachments,  and  their  attacks  are  heavy. 
The  high  sententiousness  of  Lydgate  does  not  lend  itself  to  the 

»  Chapter  2. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    431 

flash  of  wit.  The  French  origin  of  the  Casile  of  Labour  is  indicated 
by  just  this  combination.  In  this  case  it  is  the  medieval  contempt 
for  woman,  clearly  humorous,  since  his  troubles  have  been  in  a 
dream. 

And  therefore  my  welbeloued  wyfe 
Consyder  the  payne  and  the  trauayle 
Whiche  whyle  ye  slepte  without  stryfe 
Ryght  cruelly  dyde  me  assayle 
But  now  am  I  well  without  fayle 
Syth  I  haue  escaped  this  daungere 
And  in  your  presence  may  appere 

My  wyfe  therof  cared  no  thynge 
But  leughe  me  to  derysyon 
She  scorned  me  and  my  talkynge 
For  were  it  wynnynge  or  perdycyon 
It  was  to  her  all  one  conclusyon 
For  so  she  were  serued  at  her  desyre 
She  cared  not  yf  I  laye  in  the  myre 

She  called  me  fole  and  cared  nought 
And  was  nere  redy  with  me  to  fyght 
She  swore  by  god  that  her  dere  bought 
She  wolde  make  me  remembre  that  nyght 
Therfore  I  went  toe  bedde  euen  ryght 
For  the  thre  foted  stole  sore  fered  I 
To  chat  with  a  woman  it  is  but  foly.  .  .  . 

This  comic  element  took  the  form  of  a  mock  will  in  which  the 
testator  bequeaths  satiric  legacies.  The  germ  of  this  conception 
is  found  in  the  Roman  de  la  Rose  ^  where  the  royal  lover  makes 
his  will  and  bequeaths  his  heart; 

Ja'  ne  seront  autre  mi  I6s. 

The  first  definite  example  of  the  mock  will  in  verse  belongs  to  Eus- 
tace Descharaps,  where  his  lady  is  left  to  the  cure,  his  old  trousers 
and  shirt  to  the  Grey  Friars,  etc.^    Without  enumerating  the  inter- 

'  Roman  de  la  Rose,  ed.      Francisque — Michel,  1864,  28-31. 

*  For  this  genealogy  the  reader  should  consult  the  edition  of  Le  Petti  Testament 
of  Villon  edited  with  an  elaborate  introduction  by  W.  G.  C.  Bijvanck;  Colyn 
Blowbolt  Testament,  edited  with  an  elalxirate  introduction  by  Friedrich  Lehraeyer; 
and  the  bibliography  to  Chapter  V,  Vol.  Ill  of  the  Cambridge  History  of  English 
Literature,  compiled  by  Professor  Ilurold  V.  Houth. 


432  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

mediate  stages,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  recall  the  Grand  and  the 
Petit  Testament  of  Villon.  These  poems  were  so  popular  that, 
between  the  first  in  1489  and  the  edition  of  Clement  Marot  in  1533, 
there  were  twenty  separate  editions.^  As  this  conception  spread 
also  into  the  Latin  and  into  the  Italian,  it  would  be  expected  to 
make  its  appearance  in  the  English.  This  it  does  in  a  rather  worth- 
less jeu  d'esprit  called  Colyn  BlowboVs  Testament,  which  existed 
only  in  manuscript  until  published  by  Park  in  Nugce  Poeticce,  1804.^ 
The  poem  opens  with  a  description  of  Colin  Blowbol  so  ill  from 
drinking  that  he  calls  in  the  priest  to  make  his  will,  wherein,  after 
various  bequests,  he  founds  an  establishment,  situated  in  the 
stews  of  Southwark  and  with  Mab  Sloth  as  abbess,  that  shall  be 
devoted  to  drinkers.  It  was  apparently  written  for  the  amusement 
of  a  definite  group,  as  certain  names,  Robert  Otwey,  Nicholas  Ing- 
lond,  Robert  Horsley,  Robert  Cure,  William  Copyndale,  et  al., 
which,  as  they  have  no  point  in  themselves,  must  have  been  given 
significance  by  the  fact  that  the  persons  were  friends  of  the  author. 
Quite  cleariy  also  it  must  have  been  written  hastily,  as  it  changes 
from  the  third  to  the  first  person  without  apparent  intention.  The 
author  attempts  to  bring  it  in  line  with  the  conventional  form  by 
affixing  the  Lydgatian  apology  in  rime-royal,  although  the  poem 
itself  is  in  the  heroic  couplet. 

Thow  litell  quayer,  how  daxst  thow  shew  thy  face. 

Or  com  yn  presence  of  men  of  honest^, 

Sith  thow  ard  rude,  and  folowist  not  the  trace 

Of  faire  langage,  nor  haiste  no  bewt6? 

Wherefore  of  wysedom  thus  I  councelle  th^ 

To  draw  the  bake  fer  out  of  their  sight. 

Lest  thow  be  had  in  reproef  and  dispite. 

Conventional  as  is  this  ending,  after  perusing  the  poem,  the  reader 
feels  that  it  probably  represents  the  genuine  feelings  of  the  author, 
or  at  least  it  should !  As  the  broken-backed  line,  the  fourth  in  the 
stanza  quoted,  suggests  Lydgate,  the  date  may  be  placed  fairiy 
eariy  in  the  century.  Somewhat  later  is  Jyl  of  Breyntfords  Testa- 
meat,  where  a  long  series  of  fools  are  each  left  the  same  insult.^    As 

^  I  am  here  quoting  from  the  bibliography  appended  by  Auguste  Longnon 
to  his  Oeuvres  Completes  de  Frangois  Villon,  Paris  1892. 

*  It  has  also  been  published  in  Hazlitt's  Early  Popular  Poetry  of  England,  I, 
92,  and  in  an  annotated  edition  by  Lehmeyer,  1907. 

'  Reprinted  by  Fumivall  for  the  Ballad  Society  in  1871. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    433 

this  was  printed  by  William  Copland,  it  must  have  been  issued 
around  the  decade  1550-1560.  The  interesting  feature  of  the  poem 
consists  in  the  prologue  written  by  Robert  Copland.  The  tone  here 
is  personal  and  familiar,  and  there  is  a  perfect  command  of  the  me- 
dium. Jyl  of  Brentford  kept  an  Inn  near  Sion  House.  She  was  so 
full  of  pastime  that  her  name  had  passed  into  a  proverb.  Cop- 
land had  never  imderstood  it,  until  one  day  having  met  John 
Hardlesay  to  have  a  drink  of  good  ale  at  the  Red  Lion,  the  proverb 
was  quoted.  On  his  return  home  he  found  an  old  scroll,  ragged 
and  rent,  antique,  broken  and  defaced,  in  which  the  origin  of  the 
proverb  was  explained.     Later  in  a  moment  of  despondency. 

For  recreacion  I  it  toke. 
To  pas  the  tyme,  ther  on  to  loke; 
And  of  trouth,  oft  in  the  redyng 
It  dyd  styre  me  to  fall  on  smylyng, 
\  Consyderyng  the  prety  pastyme 

And  rydycle  ordre  of  the  ryme. 
The  couert  termes,  vnder  a  mery  sence, 
Shewyng  of  many  the  blynd  in-solence, 
Taimtyng  of  thynges  past  and  to  come, 
Where  as  my  selfe  was  hyt  with  some; 
And  for  that  cause  I  dyd  intend 
After  thys  maner  to  haue  it  pende, 
Prayeng  all  them  that  mery  be. 
If  it  touch  them,  not  to  blame  me. 

So,  in  guise  of  his  own  experience,  Copland  gives  us  the  reasons 
for  the  popularity,  not  only  of  this  particular  poem,  but  also  for 
all  of  its  type.  Primarily  the  appeal  is  to  the  sense  of  humor,  but 
there  is  satire  intermingled.  There  is  none  of  the  acuteness,  how- 
ever, nor  the  unexp)ected  reversal,  found  in  Villon.  The  English 
poem  is  straightforward,  broad  and  coarse.  In  English  there  are 
several  more,^  but,  once  the  differentiating  characteristics  are 
clear,  they  need  not  be  discussed.  It  is  clearly  an  English  adapta- 
tion of  the  French  form. 

To  return  a  moment  to  the  passage  from  the  Romauni  de  la 
Rose,  another  derivative  is  possible,  namely  the  convention  of 
the  dying  lover  bequeathing  his  all  to  his  love.  This  is  so  normal 
that  the  distortion  from  it  seems  due  to  the  brilliance  of  Villon. 

'  An  analysis  may  be  found  in  Lehraeyer.  op.  eit. 


434  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Naturally  in  France  a  number  of  love  poems  were  composed  along 
these  lines.  In  English  this  is  represented  by  a  poem  among  those 
of  "Uncertain  Authors"  of  Tottel's  second  edition,  miscalled 
The  testament  of  the  hawthome}  In  a  pretty,  but  artificial  manner 
the  poet  gives  directions  for  his  funeral  and  his  dying  wishes. 

And  euen  with  my  last  bequest. 
When  I  shall  from  this  life  depart: 
I  geue  to  her  I  loued  best. 
My  iust  my  true  and  faithfuU  hart. 
Signed  with  the  hand  as  cold  as  stone: 
Of  him  that  liuing  was  her  owne. 

The  importance  of  this,  as  in  the  case  of  the  mock-will  type,  is 
that  it  shows  the  persistence  of  the  medieval  form  in  the  midst 
of  the  Renaissance  movement.  It  must  be  again  reiterated  that,  as 
we  have  but  a  small  part  of  the  poetry  presumably  composed  dur- 
ing the  reigns  of  the  first  two  Tudors,  a  single  specimen  of  a  cer- 
tain form  probably  indicates  the  existence  of  many  that  are  at 
present  unknown.  If  this  hypothetical  condition  be  true,  we 
may  find  here  a  definite  example  of  French  influence. 

The  three  forms  of  French  poetry  that  have  been  discussed  all 
hark  back  to  medieval  conditions,  that  is,  conditions  quite  differ- 
ent from  those  at  the  opening  of  the  Renaissance.  In  the  tumult 
and  distress  of  the  Hundred  Years  War,  chivalry  has  been  lost. 
Jeanne  d'Arc  is  the  last  great  epic  figure,  and  she  was  then,  as 
Gaston  Paris  dares  to  express  it,  an  anachronism.^  "While  she 
struggled  and  while  she  died,  this  'gentil  due  d'Orleans'  whom 
she  so  ardently  desired  to  free  from  his  English  captivity  took  that 
captivity  lightly  enough,  and,  entirely  occupied  in  polishing  his 
pleasing  rimes,  did  not  find  time  to  send  to  his  martyr  a  single  po- 

^  TotteTs  Miscellany,  Arber's  Reprint,  op.  cii.  260. 

The  title  comes  from  the  first  line, 

"  I  Sdy  Haw  whose  hope  is  past." 

As  the  poem  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  hawthome,  the  word  haw  of  the 
line  quoted  must  signify  "a  thing  of  no  value"  N.  E.  D.  sb.  2,  1,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  under  3  haw  is  given  as  equivalent  to  hawthorn  with  this  particular 
quotation  cited. 

'  Gaston  Paris,  La  Paesie  au  XV  Siide,  Deuxieme  S^rie,  215. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE     435 

etic  greeting, "  In  place  of  the  old  feudal  age  with  its  magnificently 
impossible  ideals,  grew  up  a  bourgeois  society,  stressing  reaUties, 
without  the  fine  enthusiasms  of  the  past,  but  also  without  its 
foolishness.  The  poetry  of  such  an  age  will  lack  great  emotional 
outbursts;  its  feet  are  too  solidly  planted  upon  mother  earth. 
There  will  not  be  the  mysticism  and  the  exaltation  of  great  love; 
marriage  is  a  serious  business  and  involves  pecuniary  considera- 
tions. But  there  will  be,  on  one  side,  an  acute  perception  of  ac- 
tuality and  a  recognition  of  the  individual  in  his  relation  to 
society, — ^as  appears  in  the  mordant  phrases  of  Villon, —  and,  on 
the  other,  an  artistic  appreciation  of  the  value  of  form, — as  is 
shown  by  Clement  Marot.  There  is  nothing  surprising  in  this  con- 
dition. A  society  such  as  this  wishes  its  ideas  clearly  cut.  Its  dis- 
like of  sentimental  vagueness,  or  emotional  profundity,  is  equalled 
by  its  horror  of  obscurity.  There  must  be  no  romantic  half- 
lights.  This  merciless  clarity  entails  a  respect  for  form.  In  pro- 
portion as  the  substance  of  a  poem  is  of  less  consequence,  the 
presentation  must  approach  an  exquisite  and  elaborate  perfec- 
tion. In  justifying  the  ways  of  God  to  man,  Milton  can  afford  to 
disregard  the  adornment  of  rime;  to  celebrate  a  lady's  glove  in 
blank  verse  would  be  ridiculous.  On  the  other  hand,  as  the  mass 
of  literature  is  not  employed  in  Miltonic  justification,  there  is 
space  a-plenty  for  slighter  effort  and  less  ambitious  attempts.  And 
for  these  there  grew  up  the  involved  rime-schemes  of  the  ballade 
and  the  rondeau.  As  the  names  imply,  here  there  is  close  union 
with  the  music  and  the  dance.  Originally  of  popular  origin,  by  the 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century  they  had  been  appropriated  by 
the  masters  of  verse  technique.  Villon's  ballades  are  not  the  out- 
pourings of  unsophisticated  genius;  they  are  artistic  masterpieces, 
and  the  impression  that  they  give  of  spontaneity  is  merely  the 
result  of  the  supreme  mastery  of  his  art.  But  Villon  is  merely  the 
best  known  to  moderns  of  a  crowd  of  such  writers.  \Vhen  one 
considers  the  extreme  technical  difficulty  of  the  form,  it  is  re- 
markable to  find  the  large  number  of  poets  that  can  handle  it 
so  well.  And  although  in  French  the  proportion  of  riming  words 
is  greater  than  in  English,  yet  it  is  surprising  that  English  poets 
did  not  attempt  to  render  the  ballade.  Even  Villon's  Ballade  des 
Dames  du  Temps  Jadis,  which  has  challenged  the  skill  of  so  many 
of  our  modem  poets,  remained   unimitated,  although  certainly 


436  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

it  was  easily  accessible  in  the  French.^  As  a  general  negative  is 
the  most  extreme  of  positive  statements,  I  dare  not  risk  the  re- 
mark that  the  ballade  was  not  used  in  England,  but  it  is  a  safe 
position  to  assert  that,  when  translated,  usually  the  form  was 
changed  into  one  more  easily  written.  The  process  may  be  illus- 
trated by  Barclay's  envoy  to  his  fifty-first  chapter  of  the  Ship  of 
Fools,  wherein  the  typically  medieval  subject  of  the  inevitability 
of  death  is  celebrated.^ 

O  man  that  hast  thy  trust  and  confydence 
Fyxed  on  these  frayle  fantasyes  mundajTie 
Remember  at  the  ende  there  is  no  difference 
Bytwene  that  man  that  lyued  hath  in  payne 
And  hym  that  hath  in  welth  and  ioy  souerayne 
They  both  must  dye  their  payne  is  of  one  sort 
Both  ryche  and  pore,  no  man  can  deth  refrayne 
For  dethes  dart  expellyth  all  confort 

Say  where  is  Adam  the  fyrst  progenytour 
Of  all  mankynde  is  he  nat  dede  and  gone 
And  where  is  Abell  of  innocence  the  flour 
With  adamys  other  sonnes  euerychone 
A:  dredfull  deth  of  them  hath  left  nat  one 
Where  is  Mathusalem,  and  Tuball  that  was  playne 
The  first  that  played  on  Harpe  or  on  Orgone 
Ilz  sont  tous  mortz  ce  monde  est  choce  vayne 

Where  is  iust  Noy  and  his  ofsprynge  become 
Where  is  Abraham  and  all  his  progeny 
As  Isaac  and  Jacob,  no  strength  nor  wysdome 
Coude  them  ensure  to  lyue  contynually 
Where  is  kynge  Dauyd  whome  god  dyd  magnyfy 
And  Salomon  his  son  of  wysdome  souerayne 
Where  ar  his  sonnes  of  wysdome  and  beauty 
Ilz  8ont  toutz  mortz  ce  monde  est  choce  vayne 

Where  ar  the  prynces  and  kynges  of  Babylon 
And  also  of  Jude  and  kynges  of  Israeli 
Where  is  the  myghty  and  valiant  Sampson 
He  had  no  place  in  this  lyfe  ay  to  dwell 

*  Before  the  edition  of  Villon  by  Marot  in  1532,  there  had  been  twenty  printed 
editions. 

'Jamieson,  op.  cit.,  1,  268.  As  this  is  neither  in  the  Narrenschiff,  nor  the 
Locher,  nor  the  Riviere,  it  must  be  either  original  with  Barclay,  or  (what  is  more 
probable)  a  translation  from  an  independent  French  poem, — to  me,  at  least,  un- 
known. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    437 

Where  ar  the  Prynces  myghty  and  cruell 
That  rayned  before  Christ  delyuered  vs  from  payne 
And  from  the  Dongeons  of  darke  and  ferefuU  hell 
Ih  sont  toutz  mortz  ce  monde  est  choce  vayne. 

Of  worldly  worsyp  no  man  can  hym  assure 
In  this  our  age  whiche  is  the  last  of  all 
No  creature  can  here  alway  endure 
Yonge  nor  olde,  pore  man  nor  kynge  royall 
Unstable  fortune  toumeth  as  doth  a  ball 
And  they  that  ones  pas  can  nat  retoume  agayne 
Wherfore  I  boldly  dare  speke  in  generall 
We  all  shall  dye:  ce  monde  est  choce  vayne. 

Ryches  nor  wysdome  can  none  therfro  defende 

Ne  in  his  strength  no  man  can  hym  assure 

Say  where  is  Tully  is  he  nat  come  to  ende 

Seneke  the  sage  with  Cato  and  Arture 

The  hye  Arystotyll  of  godly  wyt  and  pure 

The  glorious  Godfray,  and  myghty  Charlemayne 

Thoughe  of  theyr  lyfe  they  thought  that  they  were  sure 

Yet  ar  they  all  dede:  ce  monde  est  choce  vayne. 

Where  ar  the  Phylosophers  and  Poetis  lawreat 

The  great  Grammaryens  and  pleasant  oratours. 

Ar  they  nat  dede  after  the  same  fourme  and  rate 

As  ar  all  these  other  myghty  conquerours 

Where  ar  theyr  Royalmes  theyr  ryches  and  treasours 

Left  to  theyr  heyres:  and  they  be  gone  certayne 

And  here  haue  left  theyr  riches  and  honours 

So  have  they  proued  that  this  worlde  ia  but  vayne. 

So  I  conclude  bycause  of  breuyte 
That  if  one  sought  the  worlde  large  and  wyde 
Therin  sholde  be  founde  no  maner  of  dere 
That  can  alway  in  one  case  suerly  byde 
Strength,  honour,  riches  cunnynge  and  bcautye 
All  these  decay,  dayly:  thoughe  we  complayne 
Omnia  fert  etas,  both  helth  and  iolyte 
We  all  shall  dye:  ce  monde  est  choce  vayne. ^ 

A  comparison  of  this  poem  on  the  same  subject  and  similar  in  treat- 
ment, Villon's  Ballade  des  Seigneurs  du  Temps  Jadis  will  show  the 
limitations  of  French  influence  in  this  type.    Both  are  catalogues 

'  It  is  surely  unneceaaary  to  remark  that  the  eccentric  punctuation  has  been 
retained. 


438  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

of  names.  Yet  Villon  has  condensed  his  into  three  stanzas  and  an 
envoi  of  four  lines.  Barclay,  in  spite  of  his  "  brevity,"  requires 
eight  full  stanzas.  And  whereas  Villon  for  the  total  twenty-eight 
lines  employs  but  three  rimes,  Barclay  in  the  English  fashion 
changes  his  rime  with  the  stanza,  although  he  suggests  his  French 
original  by  retaining  the  refrain,  even  in  the  French  words.  The 
inference  seems  to  be  that  the  English  author  is  lacking  the  tech- 
nical mastery  to  render  the  ballade  form.  But  it  is  not  fair  to 
attribute  this  inability  entirely  to  Barclay's  lack  of  skill.  The 
language,  which  in  the  hands  of  Chaucer  had  been  shown  to  be 
capable  of  elaborate  riming,  in  the  early  sixteenth  century  was  then 
in  a  state  of  transition.  A  very  possible  reason,  therefore,  for 
the  lack  of  translations  of  the  ballades  is  that  the  English  language 
was  not  then  a  sufficiently  definite  instrument.  In  any  case, 
whether  the  poets  lacked  the  ability,  or  the  language  lacked  the 
capacity,  the  fact  remains  that  the  French  ballade  was  not  do- 
mesticated in  England. 

But  the  ballade  is  but  one  of  the  forms.  With  the  increasing 
stability  of  the  throne  under  Louis  XI  and  his  successors,  poetry 
responded  to  the  social  demand  made  upon  it.  Especially  was 
this  true  of  the  court  circle.  Pieces  were  written,  briUiantly  com- 
pressed and  clever  in  execution,  that  were  suitable  to  whisper  in 
a  lady's  ear,  or  that  would  attract  the  attention  of  a  king.  Of 
this  type  the  poet  par  excellence  was  Clement  Marot.^  As  the 
son  of  his  father  he  had  a  poetic  inheritance.  Although  he  began 
his  career  with  the  allegory  and  verbal  tricks  of  the  older  school, 
he  quickly  adapted  himself  to  his  surroundings,  so  that  his  verses 
mirror  the  gay,  witty  and  licentious  court  of  Francis  I.    Roman- 

^  Aside  from  the  sixteenth  century  editions  that  are  diflBcult  to  procure  here 
in  America,  there  are  three  well-known  editions  of  the  complete  works,  (a)  4  vols, 
ed.  by  Pierre  Jannet  1868-1872;  unhappily  the  editor  died  before  completing  his 
work,  so  that  the  last  volume  was  brought  out  by  d'Hericault,  who  had  himself  pub- 
lished a  selection  of  Marot  in  1867.  (b)  the  elaborate  edition  by  Georges  Guiffrey, 
Vol.  2  in  1875  and  Vol.  3  in  1881;  unhappily  he  also  died  leaving  these  two  vol- 
umes as  a  torso.  They  include  only  the  Opuscules  and  the  Epistres.  Up  to 
the  point  that  GuifiFrey  carried  it,  there  is  adequate  discussion  of  the  problems, 
but  he  carries  it  such  a  short  distance.  Therefore  (c)  the  best  modem  (!) 
edition  is  that  of  Lenglet  du  Fresnoy  in  1731.  This  is  in  six  volumes  and  con- 
tains also  the  poems  of  Jean  and  Michel  Marot.  When  possible  I  cite  (a)  the 
Guiffrey,  then  (b)  the  Jannet,  and  lastly  (c)  the  du  Fresnoy. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    439 

tic  chivalric  love  has  been  replaced  by  gallantry.  Since  the 
Petrarchan  convention  has  not  yet  reached  France,  his  attitude 
is  objective.  The  long  diluted  medieval  poem,  also,  has  been 
supplanted  by  epigrammatic  terseness,  and  the  verbal  play  of  the 
Rhetoriqueurs  by  the  flash  of  wit.  For  this,  the  old  French  stanza- 
forms  are  handled  en  maitre.  Before  Clement  Marot  the  rondeau, 
for  example,  was  a  name  loosely  applied  to  a  large  number  of 
forms  having  little  more  than  the  use  of  the  refrain  in  common.* 
Some  of  these  forms  are  fantastic  to  the  last  degree,  even  to  the 
extent  of  writing  enigmas  in  rondeau  form.^  The  only  essential 
is  the  refrain.  As  Fabri  defines  it:  ^  "Item  he  who  wishes  to  make 
a  rondeau,  must  make  it  round,  that  is  to  say  that  he  must  nec- 
essarily take  care  that  the  ends  and  the  sentences  of  the  half,  or 
last,  clauses  be  so  skillfully  accommodated  to  the  commencement 
of  the  first  clause  that  the  first  clause  seems  necessary  to  complete 
the  meaning,  and  yet  that  in  themselves  they  be  complete  and 
give  perfect  sense  without  the  addition  of  the  first  clause.  .  .  .  "It 
is  this  twofold  aim,  namely  that  the  refrain  must  both  be  ap- 
propriate in  its  place,  and  also  refer  back  to  the  first  of  the  poem, 
that  makes  the  rondeau  so  diflBcult  to  write.  Rules  for  its  com- 
position abound.  In  the  Jardin  de  Plaisancf,  in  rondeau  form, 
L'lnfortun^  gives  his  directions:  ■* 

Par  et,  -pour,  mais,  donq,  par,  car,  quant, 
Ne  se  doibt  rondeau  commencer. 
Qui  ne  sQait  son  faict  despenser 
A  bien  conclurre  et  rimacer, 
Ou  de  plat  fauldra  ou  de  cant. 

Acteura  seront  celuy  mocquant 
Qui  rondeau  cuidera  passer. 
Sans  bien  rentrer  et  compasser. 
Par  et,  etc. 

'  Cf.  Reckerchea  sur  le  Vers  FranQais  au  XV  RiMe  by  Henri  Chatelain,  1908: 
Gaston  Raynaud  has  published  Rondeau  et  Aulres  Poesies  du  XV'  Si^de,  1889, 
from  a  manuscript  in  the  Bibliot^ue  Nationale;  there  is  also  Chanaona  du  XV* 
SiMe,  1875,  by  Gaston  Paris. 

*  Cf.  Jean  Marot's  rondeau  L'Homme  dupi. 

*  Fabri,  op.  cit..  II.  ©3. 

*  Quoted  by  Fabri,  op.  eit.,  II.  63. 


440  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Plusieurs  s'abusent  en  peasant 
Que  rondeau  soil  bon  pour  rentrer, 
Mais  non  chascun  couplet  porter 
Doibt  sens  parfaict  et  suspenser 
Qos  et  ouuert  non  suspensant. 
Par  et,  etc. 

Clearly  the  effect  of  such  precepts  was  to  make  the  rondeau  a 
purely  artificial  form.  A  perfect  rondeau  was  not  the  result  of 
inspirational  frenzy,  but  of  careful  deliberation  in  the  choice  of 
both  the  idea  and  the  expression.  Consequently  the  widespread 
use  of  such  a  form  was  to  develop  ability  in  poetic  technique.  This 
is  expressed  by  C16ment  Marot:  * 

En  un  rondeau,  sur  le  commencement, 
Un  vocatif,  comme  "Maistre  Clement," 
Ne  peult  faillir  r'entrer  par  buys  ou  porte; 
Aux  plus  scavans  poetes  m'en  rapporte. 
Qui  d'en  user  se  gardent  sagement. 

Bien  inventer  vous  fault  premierement, 
L'invention  deschiffrer  proprement. 
Si  que  raison  et  rythme  ne  soit  morte 
En  un  rondeau. 

Usez  de  motz  regeuz  communement, 
Rien  superflu  n'y  soit  aucunement, 
Et  de  la  fin  quelque  bon  propos  sorte 
Clouez  tout  court,  rentrez  de  bonne  sorte, 
Maistre  pass6  serez  certainement 
En  un  rondeau. 

These  two  rondeaux  are  interesting  both  in  form  and  in  content. 
The  first  is  of  the  "open"  type,  that  is,  the  refrain  is  the  whole 
of  the  first  line;  the  second,  on  the  contrary  is  of  the  "closed" 
type.  The  rime-scheme  of  the  first  is  abbba  abbR  abbbaR;  that 
of  the  second  aabba  aabR  aabbaR.  This  latter,  a  common  form 
in  the  15th  century,  in  the  16th  century  practically  supplanted  all 
the  others.  While  by  no  means  peculiar  to  Clement  Marot,  his 
preference  for  it  probably  established  it  as  the  form  for  the  rondeau. 
Probably  also  his  practice  established  the  rondeau  convention. 
First  there  must  be  a  single  conception.    This  must  then  be  pre- 

iJannet's  ed.    2,   127. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    441 

sented  simply,  with  no  forced  rimes  and  no  superfluities,  and 
finally  must  be  keyed  by  the  refrain.  But,  aside  from  the  refrain, 
these  are  the  characteristics  of  a  great  part  of  his  work.  These  are 
true  not  only  of  the  rondeau,  but  of  the  ^trenne,  the  dizain,  the 
epigram,  etc.  A  clever  idea  neatly  phrased  is  the  ideal.  There  is 
no  great  emotional  outburst.  It  is  preeminently  social,  and  as 
such  is  characteristic  of  the  age.  For  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
the  court  he  and,  to  a  far  greater  extent,  Melin  de  Saint-Gelais 
wrote  elegant  trifles.  To  be  sure,  Marot  is  a  good  deal  more  than 
that, — his  versions  of  the  Psalms  have  a  certain  elevation  of  tone, — 
but  the  sense  for  form,  for  moderation,  cleverness,  such  qualities 
as  these,  rather  than  any  fine  frenzy,  are  the  characteristics  of  his 
work  and  that  of  his  school. 

But  these  are  not  the  qualities  that  characterise  the  exuberance 
of  the  Renaissance  spirit !  Such  calculated  cleverness,  such  perfect 
control,  and  such  critical  acumen  are  signs  of  a  ripe  maturity  that 
needs  but  a  little  to  be  over-ripe.  From  this  point  of  view,  Marot 
and  the  school  are  rather  the  last  of  the  medievalists  than  the  first 
of  the  modems.  In  consonance  with  this  conception  is  that  fact 
that  he  edited  both  the  works  of  Villon  and  the  Roman  de  la 
Rose.  It  is  not  quite  correct  to  say  that  he  "overthrew "  the  Rh^to- 
riquers;  rather  he  developed  out  from  them,  for  his  aim,  as  was 
theirs,  was  to  please  by  his  wits, — only  his  natural  good  sense 
gradually  refused  their  verbal  puerilities.  Medieval,  also,  is  his 
attitude  towards  the  classics.^  His  Greek  seems  to  have  been 
secondhand  and  his  Latin  little  more  than  a  veneer.  Born  in  the 
provincial  town  of  Cahors  and  brought  up  to  speak  the  native 
dialect,  his  energy  was  absorbed  in  learning  French;  Greek  and 
Latin  went  by  the  board.  Naturally  in  the  Court  of  Frangois  F*" 
one  could  not  be  completely  ignorant  of  classical  civilization,  nor  of 
classical  allusion,  but  the  errors  he  makes  show  conclusively  that 
his  knowledge  of  it  was  only  superficial.  This  lack  has  been  claimed 
for  him  as  an  advantage.^  But  irrespective  of  the  effect  upon  his 
own  work,  such  a  condition  is  significant  for  its  effect  upon  the  lit- 

» Cf.  De  Fontibui  dementis  Maroti  Poetae,  Henricus  Guy,  1898. 

*  d'H6ricault,  op.  cii.,  xxxiv.  Marot  le  confesse,  du  reste  "Si  peu  que  je  com- 
piisse  aux  livres  latins."  II  fait  cet  aveu  avec  humility.  Pour  moi,  je  n'h6site 
pas  &  dire  que  cette  quasi-ignorancc  dc  Clement  Marot  fut  la  grande  cause  de  sa 
gioire.       II  avoit  mieux  que  le  latin  &  apprcndre;  il  avoit  d  connoltre  la  laogue 


442  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

erature  of  his  age.  Rightly  or  wrongly,  the  current  was  setting 
toward  a  revival  of  the  interest  in  the  classics  that  is  characteristic 
of  the  Renaissance.  But  in  France  this  movement  was  retarded  by 
Marot.  A  comparison  of  his  handling  of  the  Hero  and  Leander 
story  with  that  by  Marlowe  illustrates  how  slightly  he  was  touched 
by  the  Renaissance.  In  his  version  there  is  none  of  Marlowe's  pa- 
gan sensuosity  nor  Greek  love  of  beauty.  The  incidents  are  the 
same;  the  impression  completely  different.  But  his  mastery  of  the 
language  was  so  great  that  he  gathered  a  school  around  him.  The 
result  was  that  after  his  death,  when  the  new  movement  came,  it 
came  in  a  burst.  In  1549  the  Pleiade  issued  the  Defense  et  illustra- 
tion de  la  langue  frangaise,  in  which  the  former  theories  and  forms 
were  repudiated;  they  illustrated  the  principles  by  a  rapid  publica- 
tion of  poems,  and  another  age  had  begun.  But  this  sudden  change 
is  only  explicable  on  the  assumption  that  the  new  movement  had 
been  accumulating  until,  figuratively,  the  dam  burst.  Thus  French 
literature  of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  as  dominated  by 
Marot  and  his  school,  was  to  a  very  large  extent  unaffected  by  the 
new  forces. 

But  in  discussing  the  effect  of  the  court  poetry  of  France  upon 
the  court  poetry  of  England  such  literary  tendencies  need  careful 
consideration.  For,  a  priori,  there  must  have  been  some  effect; 
the  exact  amount  of  it  is  the  baffling  problem.  Theoretically  there 
would  have  been  a  great  deal.  The  personal  rivalry  between  the 
two  kings,  the  interchange  of  embassies,  and  the  natural  emulation 
of  each  court  to  outshine  the  other  would  seem  to  predicate  rela- 
tionships also  literary.  Hall  tells  us  that  certain  courtiers,  Carew, 
Bryan,  and  others  did  carry  to  excess  an  imitation  of  French  man- 
ners.^ Just  at  this  time  More  was  writing  his  epigrams,  among 
which  is  one  In  Anglum  Gallicoe  Linguoe  Affectatorem.^ 

Amicus  &  sodalis  est  Lalus  mihi, 
Britanniaque  natus,  altusque  insula. 
At  cum  Britamios  Gallise  cultoribus 
Oceanus  ingens,  lingua,  mores  dirimant. 

frangoise  et  &  la  limer:  ce  sera,  comme  il  I'indique,  I'occupation  du  reste  de  sa 
vie. 

1  Quoted  in  full,  p.  377. 

*  Epigrammata  Clarissimi  Disertissimique  uiri  Thomae  Mori  Britanni  ad 
emendatum  exemplar  ispius  autoris  excusa.      Basileam.      Froben  1520,  45. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    443 

Spemlt  tamen  Lalus  Britannica  omnia, 

Miratur,  expetitque  cuncta  Gallica. 

Toga  superbit  ambulans  in  Gallica, 

Amatque  multum  Gallicas  lacemulas. 

Zona,  locello,  atque  ense  gaudet  Gallico, 

Filtro,  bireto,  pileoque  Gallico, 

Et  calceis,  &  subligare  Gallico, 

Totoque  denique  apparatu  Gallico. 

Nam  &  unum  habet  ministrum,  eumque  Gallicum. 

Sed  quern  (licet  uelit)  nee  ipsa  Gallia 

Tractare  quiret  plus  (opinor)  Gallice, 

Stipendii  nihil  dat,  atque  id  Gallice. 

Vestitque  tritis  pannulis,  &  Gallice  hoc. 

Alit  cibo  panio,  &  malo,  idque  Gallice. 

Lahore  multo  exercet,  atque  hoc  Gallice. 

Pugnisque  crebro  pulsat,  idque  Gallice. 

In  coetu  &  in  uia,  &  foro,  &  frequentia 

Rixatur,  obiurgatque  semper  Gallice. 

Quid?  Gallice  illud?  imo  semigallice. 

Sermonem  enim  (ni  fallor)  ille  Gallicum 

Tarn  callet  omnem,  quam  Latinum  Psytacus. 

Crescit  tamen,  sibique  nimirum  placet. 

Verbis  tribus,  si  quid  loquatur  GallicLs. 

Aut  Gallicis  si  quid  nequit  uocabulis, 

Conatur  id,  uerbis  licet  non  Gallicis, 

Canore  saltem  personare  Gallico, 

Palato  hiante  acutulo  quodam  sono, 

Et  foeminse  instar  garrientis  molliter, 

Sed  ore  pleno,  tanquam  id  impleant  fabee 

Balbutiens  uidelicet  suauiter 

Pressis  quibusdam  Uteris,  Galli  quibus 

Ineptientes  abstinent,  nihil  secus, 

Qudm  uulpe  gallus,  rupibusque  nauita. 

Sic  ergo  linguam  ille  &  Latinam  Gallice, 

Et  Gallice  linguam  sonat  Britannican. 

Et  Gallice  linguam  refert  Lombardicam. 

Et  Gallice  linguam  refert  Hispanicam. 

Et  Gallice  linguam  sonat  Germimicam. 

Et  Gallice  omnem,  pneter  unara  Gallicam.  ^ 

Nam  Gallicam  solam  sonat  Britannice. 

At  quisquis  insula  satus  Britannica, 

Sic  patriam  insolens  fastidiet  suam, 

Vt  more  simiee  laboret  fingere, 

Et  semulari  Gallicas  ineptias. 

Ex  amne  Gallo  ego  bunc  opinor  ebrium. 

Ergo  ex  Britanno  ut  Gallus  esse  nititur. 

Sic  dii  iubete,  fiat  ex  gallo  capus. 


444  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

It  would  be  natural  to  expect  that  by  such  courtiers  as  these  the  in- 
fluence of  Clement  Marot,  his  predecessors  and  his  disciples,  would 
be  brought  into  England.  This  is  supported  by  the  appearance  of 
an  occasional  French  song  by  an  English  writer,  by  an  occasional 
refrain,  and  certain  verse  forms.  On  the  other  hand,  such  French 
influence  by  its  very  excess  caused  a  reaction.  Lalus  may  have  been 
a  friend  of  More,  as  he  states,  but  the  tone  of  contempt  through- 
out the  epigram  scarcely  supports  the  assertion.  Nor  was  More 
alone  in  his  feeling, — and  the  others  did  not  expend  their  energy 
in  epigrams.  As  Hall  tells  us,  in  the  passage  cited,  the  opposition 
became  strong  enough  to  banish  these  "kynges  minions"  from  the 
Court.  In  this  whole  affair  Henry's  attitude  is  puzzling.  The 
picture  Hall  paints  of  his  "gentle  nature"  is  rather  at  variance 
with  the  usual  view  of  his  character.  If,  on  the  contrary,  he  re- 
sented this  banishment  of  his  most  intimate  friends  and  the  implied 
criticism  upon  himself,  the  dislike  of  France,  her  language  and  her 
customs  must  have  been  overwhelming.  In  line  with  this,  although 
it  may  be  merely  a  coincidence,  Cloked  Colusyon,  one  of  the  villains 
in  Skelton's  Magnificence,  has  two  speeches  in  French.  The  ob- 
vious conclusion  seems  to  be  that,  while  there  were  men  at  Court 
who  were  enthusiastic  imitators  of  Gallic  culture,  the  majority  were 
not  only  not  imitators,  but  in  addition  were  even  hostile.  Outside 
of  the  limits  of  the  Court,  owing  to  the  great  trade  relations  with 
Flanders,  French  influence  was  still  less.  A  part  of  the  unpopular- 
ity in  London  of  both  Wolsey  and  Anne  was  due  to  the  French 
alliance.  French  influence  on  English  literature,  broadly  speaking, 
must  have  been  confined  to  a  very  definite  and  very  Hmited  circle 
at  the  Court. 

Although  theoretically  it  is  easy  thus  to  define  and  Hmit  French 
influence,  actually  to  produce  poems  in  which  such  influence  is 
shown  is  a  diflBcult  matter.  We  are  hampered  by  lack  of  data.  To 
recapitulate  what  has  been  said  in  another  chapter,^  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  the  printing  press  in  England  was  still  compara- 
tively undeveloped,  and  that  the  writers  of  the  court  circle  felt  no 
need  of  calling  upon  its  aid  to  reach  their  very  hmited  reading  pub- 
lic. An  author  moved  by  the  moral  impulse,  such  as  Hawes,  or  the 
desire  to  attack,  such  as  Skelton,  or  the  controversial  spirit,  such  as 
More,  naturally  published.     Occasional  leaflets,  the  Nut  Broton 

1  342  pp. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    445 

Maid,  for  example,  appeared,  and  of  course  longer  prose  composi- 
tions whose  very  length  forbade  the  effort  of  copying  by  hand. 
But  the  time  had  not  yet  come  when  volumes  of  short  occasional 
verse  were  formalized  in  type.  Nor  was  it  necessary.  The  readers 
for  whom  either  Wyatt  or  Surrey  wrote  could  easily  be  satisfied  by 
copies  made  by  hand.  Moreover,  in  an  age  of  caste  it  is  improbable 
that  the  noble  writers  had  the  desire  to  bare  their  hearts  before  the 
ignoble  gaze  of  the  London  tradesman.^  From  incidental  refer- 
ences we  know  of  a  large  number  of  authors  whose  works  survive,  if 
at  all,  even  yet  in  manuscript.^  It  is  this  condition  that  gives  the 
unique  importance  to  the  collection  known  as  TotteVs  MisceUany, 
published  in  1557,  for  to  the  majority  of  the  Elizabethans  the 
poems  included  in  it  of  necessity  represented  the  work  of  the 
whole  of  the  court  circle.  Unfortunately  we  have  absolutely  no 
knowledge  why  Tottel  made  the  selection  that  he  did.  Appar- 
ently it  represents  the  poetry  of  the  previous  thirty  years  at  least. 
But  as  these  years  were  years  of  rapid  development,  the  Miscd- 
lany  is  not  homogeneous.  It  includes  the  work  of  Wyatt  and  that 
of  Surrey  and  Grimald,  besides  a  miscellaneous  aggregation 
labelled  "Uncertaine  Authors."  As  there  is  a  difference  of  almost 
a  generation  between  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  the  first  period  would  be 
represented  in  the  work  of  Wyatt. 

Some  idea  of  the  relation  of  Tottel's  publication  to  the  amount 
of  work  composed  may  be  gained  by  a  comparison  of  his  selection 
in  the  case  of  Wyatt.  By  a  rare  chance  we  have  what  is  recognized 
by  experts  as  Wyatt's  autograph  manuscript.'     With  this  as  a 

'  Miss  Foxwell  in  A  Study  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt' s  Poems,  London  1911,  p.  8 
says  in  regard  to  the  Egerton  MS:  "That  the  poems  were  intended  for  publication 
is  evident  from  certain  headings  in  the  E  Ms."  If  by  jnMication  be  meant  printed, 
I  doubt  very  much  the  correctness  of  the  inference.  Aside  from  Latin  works 
intended  for  an  European  public,  there  is  no  evidence  that  a  single  English  author, 
with  the  exception  of  those  engaged  in  controversies,  ever  prepared  his  manu- 
script for  printing. 

*  A  recent  collection  is  Prof.  Padelford's  Early  Sixteenth  Century  Lyrics,  in  the 
BeUes-Lettres  Series,  Heath  &  Co.,  1907.  The  student  is  referred  to  the  bib- 
liography there. 

*  Brit.  Mus.  Egerton  No.  2711,  purchased  in  1889;  previously  used  (but  modi- 
fied) in  Nott's  edition  of  1818;  published  unchanged  by  Ewald  FlUgel,  Anglia 
18-19.  FlUgel  accepts  it  as  being  autographic:  Endlich  .sei  noch  bemerkt,  da.ss 
Sir  Thomas  Wyatt's  handschrift  einen  Zicmlich  ausgesprooiienen  charakler  hat, 
ao  daas  es  nicht  mil  zu  grosser  unsicherheit  verbundcn  ist,  seine  hand  festzustellen. 


446  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

basis,  other  manuscripts  increase  the  number  of  poems  to  191. 
Of  these,  only  82  are  printed  in  Tottel.  On  the  other  hand  there 
are  14  in  Tottel  that  do  not  appear  in  any  manuscript.  Conse- 
quently of  the  total  number  of  Wyatt's  poems,  205,  Tottel  prints 
less  than  one  half,  96.  Moreover  as  the  text  differs  considerably, 
the  presumption  is  that  Tottel  did  not  use  this  manuscript.  And  as 
the  last  entry  here  consists  of  the  Psalms,  still  in  an  unfinished 
state  and  with  corrections  in  Wyatt's  handwriting,  the  date  is 
clearly  late.  The  conclusion  seems  to  be  that  the  Egerton  manu- 
script represents  Wyatt's  own  version  of  his  poems.  If  this  be 
true,  why  he  omitted  certain  poems,  now  found  in  other  manu- 
scripts, has  never  been  explained.  In  any  case,  we  have  a  large 
body  of  Wyatt's  verse  so  that  it  is  possible  to  arrive  at  definite  con- 
clusions.^ 

Equally  definite  also  are  the  facts  of  Wyatt's  life.  The  publica- 
tion of  the  Calendar  of  State  Papers  makes  it  possible  to  follow  his 
career  year  by  year.^  As  it  is  unnecessary  to  make  a  biographical 
excursus,  the  facts  that  concern  us  here  are  the  following:  Thomas 
Wyatt  was  bom,  1503;  as  his  father  had  been  a  Lancastrian,  he 
was  early  connected  with  the  Tudor  Court;  he  received  two  degrees 
from  Cambridge  before  he  had  completed  his  eighteenth  year;  in 
1526  he  spent  two  months  at  the  French  court.  Three  months  of 
the  following  year  he  was  in  Italy;  from  1528-32  he  was  at  Calais, 
apparently  the  greater  part  of  the  time  holding  the  oflfice  of  mar- 

Anglia  18,  270.  But  he  does  not  regard  it  as  the  best  text  because  Tottel's  is 
"viel  glatteren,  poetischeren. "  Until  Tottel's  text  be  proved  authoritative, 
personal  preference  must  be  disregarded. 

'  The  Poems  of  Sir  Thomas  Wiat,  edited  from  the  Mss.  and  early  editions,  by 
A.  K.  Foxwell,  M.  A.  (Lond.)  London,  1913.  As  I  am  so  much  indebted  to 
this  and  to  her  Study  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt's  PocTtis,  London  1911,  I  here  make 
general  confession.  It  is  noticeable  that  in  her  later  publication  she  has  changed 
the  spelling  of  the  name.  However  rational  may  be  the  latter  form,  as  the  name 
has  been  spelled  Wyatl  for  three  centuries,  it  seems  futile  now  to  revert  to  the 
other  spelling. 

*It  is  unnecessary,  but  very  human,  to  express  the  gratitude  every  student 
of  the  period  feels  toward  this  publication!  It  gives  us  the  facts.  These  have 
been  gathered  by  W.  E.  Simonds  in  his  little  book  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  and  his 
Poems,  1889.  Professor  Simonds'  work  is  limited  (a)  by  the  lack  of  the  Egerton 
MSS.;  and  (b)  by  the  fact  that  the  Calendar  was  then  brought  up  only  to  the  year 
1536.  So  far  as  he  can  go,  he  quotes  the  original  entries.  Miss  Foxwell  merely 
summarizes. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    447 

shal;  after  five  years  in  England,  in  1537  he  was  sent  as  ambassador 
to  Spain;  the  following  year  he  was  again  sent  to  meet  the  Emperor 
at  Marseilles;  1539  finds  him  at  Blois  with  the  French  Court,  1540 
in  Flanders  with  the  Emperor,  1541  again  at  Calais.  And  he  dies 
in  1542  while  on  another  embassy.  The  mere  recital  of  these  dates 
shows  him  to  have  been  extraordinarily  exposed  to  foreign  in- 
fluences. 

Definite  as  is  the  text  and  definite  as  are  the  facts  of  his  life,  dif- 
ficulty arises  when  we  try  to  put  two  and  two  together;  unhappily 
they  do  not  make  four,  but  x!  ^  Given  a  poet  with  such  oppor- 
tunities, the  natural  expectation  would  be  that  his  verse  would 
show  signs  of  foreign  influence.  And  as  he  spent  approximately 
four  years  at  Calais, — ^a  place,  at  least  in  the  case  of  Lord  Bemers, 
favorable  to  literary  composition, — two  assumptions  seem  plaus- 
ible; (1)  that  a  certain  amount  of  his  work  was  done  there,  and  (2) 
that  the  work  done  there  would  be  that  in  which  the  foreign  influ- 
ence appears  most  strongly.  Unfortunately,  however  plausible, 
these  are  only  suppositions.  During  this  time  Clement  Marot  had 
become  recognized  as  the  dominant  French  poet.  Although  his 
first  collected  volume,  L' Adolescence  Clementine  was  not  published 
until  1532,  the  poems  certainly  had  circulated  before,  and  even 
had  been  printed.^  Again  the  natural  supposition  would  be  that 
in  the  works  of  Wyatt  would  be  found  traces  of  Clement  Marot. 

Such  traces  would  be  shown  either  in  form  or  in  content,  or  in 
both.  Wyatt's  poems  are  indexed  under  the  headings  rondeaux, 
sonnets,  epigrams,  satires,  the  Psalms,  and  miscellaneous  poems. 
So  far  as  merely  the  form  is  concerned,  the  sonnets,  satires  and 
psalms  may  be  rejected,  leaving  French  influence  to  be  shown  in 

'  This  is  illustrated  by  the  different  dates  assigned  to  individual  poems  by 
Professor  Simonds  and  Miss  Foxweli.  The  latter  believes  that  the  poems  in 
the  Egerton  MS.  are  in  chronological  order  of  composition.  Then  by  making 
certain  poems  refer  to  definite  events  it  is  possible  to  give  "approximate"  dates 
for  the  entire  sot.  But  apparently  the  onler  is  casual,  since  later  Wyatt  himself 
sorted  thera  into  groups.  If  he  had  to  take  the  trouble  to  arrange  them  chron- 
ologically in  the  first  place,  why  did  he  re-arrange  them? 

*  Marot's  Preface  de  Addeacence  Clhnentine:  le  ne  s^y  (mes  treschers  Freres) 
qui  m*a  plus  incit6  d  meltre  ces  miennes  pctites  Icunesscs  en  lumiere,  ou  voa 
continuellcs  prieres,  ou  le  desplaisir  que  i'ay  eu  d'en  ouyr  crier  &  publier  pmr  les 
rues  vne  grande  partie  toute  incDrrcctr.  inal  imprim^',  &  plus  au  pruuffit  du 
Libraire  qu'4  I'honncur  de  I'Aulheur.      Guiffrey,  op.  ciL,  2,  13-14. 


448  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  rondeaux,  epigrams  and  miscellaneous  pieces.  Of  the  total, 
two  hundred  and  five  poems,  only  nine  are  in  the  rondeau  form. 
Six  have  the  conventional  rime-scheme  aabba,  aabR,  aabbaR, 
although  two  of  these  have  octosyllabic  lines.  The  rime-scheme  of 
the  fourth  is  aabba  bbaR  aabbaR;  of  the  fifth,  aabba  bbaR  bbaabR; 
and  of  the  eighth,  aabbcR  ccbR  aabbaR.  In  other  words,  of  the 
small  number  of  rondeaux  over  half  the  number  do  not  follow  the 
type  selected  by  Marot!  Of  the  thirty-one  epigrams  all  but  six 
are  in  the  ottava  rima.  Of  the  six,  two  are  in  the  rime-royal,  and 
the  remaining  four  seem  rather  curious  experiments  in  riming.  The 
only  feature  in  the  miscellaneous  section  suggestive  of  the  French 
is  the  use  of  the  refrain, — a  feature  that  is  not  necessarily  French 
at  all.  As  many  of  them  were  written  to  be  sung,  the  origin 
of  the  refrain  is  obvious.  For,  the  form  alone  considered, 
French  influence  must  be  regarded  as  curiously  slight.^  Some 
there  undoubtedly  is,  but  the  surprising  fact  is  that  there  is  not 
more. 

When  it  comes  to  discussing  the  content  of  the  poems,  the  ques- 
tion is  exceedingly  difficult.  It  was  the  fashion  of  the  age  in  France 
and  Italy,  as  weU  as  in  England,  to  write  occasional  verses  to  be 
given  to  ladies.  As  the  conditions  that  called  them  forth  were 
similar  in  all  three  countries,  the  poems  themselves  are  very  similar. 
It  was  a  social  convention  without  deep  feeling.  The  age  of  chiv- 
alry had  passed,  but  there  yet  remained  the  literary  tradition  of 
the  cruel  lady  and  the  longing  lov6r.  There  is  little  more  emotion 
in  these  trifles  than  in  the  verses  for  St.  Valentine's  Day;  it  was 
good  form  to  have  a  bleeding  heart.  But  as  the  same  condition 
prevailed  in  all  the  courts,  extensive  reading  in  the  literatures  is 
sure  to  produce  analogies.  Wyatt,  Marot  and  the  Italian  Serafino 
have  short  poems  in  which  the  heart  after  separation  accompanies 
the  loved  one.^    Certain  phrases  in  Wyatt's  are  suggestive  of  either 

*  Lee  quotes  a  poem  the  form  of  which  is  identical  with  one  by  Marot,  (Wyatt, 
Works,  P.  160.).  There  is  some  error  in  the  reference,  as  it  is  not  to  be  found 
on  p.  160  of  Nott's  edition  (the  edition  that  he  apparently  used)  nor  can  I  find 
it  indexed  in  any  edition.  The  point  is  immaterial  as  it  is  in  the  Chaucerian 
"Monks'  Tale"  stanza  form  ababbcbc 

*  Foxwell  2,  18:  "The  refrain  and  setting,  however,  is  influenced  by  C.  Marot's 
Rondeau,  "S'il  est  ainsy."  This  Rondeau  was  first  printed  by  M.  Jannet  from 
the  MS.  FF.  2335,  f.  65.  This  would  seem  to  settle  the  question  as  a  poem 
Marot  himself  rejected  would  probably  not  be  copied  by  Wyatt,  were  it  not  that 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    449 

of  the  other  two.  The  poems  differ  in  that  in  both  the  French  and 
Italian  it  is  the  lady  that  has  the  lover's  heart,  whereas  in  the  Wyatt 
the  condition  is  reversed.  It  is  quite  possible,  therefore,  that  fur- 
ther research  may  unearth  others  more  alike.  The  resemblances 
between  Wyatt's  poems  and  those  of  Marot  are  all  of  this  type, 
occasional  similarity  in  the  treatment  of  conventional  subjects. 

This  may,  perhaps,  be  worth  further  illustration.  One  of 
Marot's  celebrated  vers  de  societe  is  his  ^trenne  A  Anne:  ^ 

Ce  nouvel  an  pour  estrenes  vous  donne 
MoQ  cueur  blesse  d'une  nouvelle  playe, 
Contrainct  y  suis.  Amour  ainsi  L'ordonne, 
En  qui  un  cas  bien  contraire  j'essaye: 
Car  ce  cueur  14,  c'est  ma  richesse  vraye: 
Le  demeurant  n'est  rien  ou  je  me  fonde; 
Et  fault  donner  le  meilleur  bien  que  j'aye 
Si  j'ay  vouloir  d'eatre  riche  en  ce  monde. 

The  charm  of  this  little  New  Year's  present  is  clearly  due  to  its 
brevity;  in  eight  lines  the  compliment  is  turned.  With  this  com- 
pare the  analogous  poem  by  Wyatt.^ 

To  seke  eche  where,  where  man  doeth  lyve. 
The  See,  the  Land :  the  Rocke,  the  Cly  ve, 
Ffraunce,  Spayne,  and  Inde  and  every  where: 

Is  none  a  greater  gift  to  gyve 

Lesse  sett  by  oft,  and  is  so  lyeff  and  dere. 
Dare  I  well  say  than  that  I  gyve  to  yere. 

I  cannot  gyve  browches  nor  ringes, 

Thes  Goldsmithes  work  and  goodly  thinges 

Piery  nor  perle,  oryente  and  clere; 
But  for  all  that  is  no  man  bringes 

Lesser  Juell  unto  his  Lady  dere 

Dare  I  well  say  then  that  I  gyve  to  yere. 

Nor  I  seke  not  to  fetche  it  farr. 

Worse  is  it  not  tho  it  be  narr. 

And  as  it  is,  it  doeth  appere 
Uncontrefaict,  mistrust  to  barr; 

Lest  hole  and  pure  withouten  pere 

Dare  I  well  say  the  gyft  I  gyve  to  yere 

the  same  rondeau,  in  a  better  text,  was  printed  in  the  1731  edition,  5,  462,  and 
there  attributed  to  Jean  Marot! 

*  Jannet,  2,  199.  Lenglet  du  Fresnoy,  on  the  doubtful  possibility  that  Anne 
refers  to  the  Duchesse  d'Alengon,  dates  it  1528. 

'Foxwell's  ed.   1,   161. 


450  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

To  the  therefore  the  same  retain 

The  like  of  the  to  have  again 

Ffraunce  would  I  gyve  if  myn  it  were 
Is  none  alyve  in  whome  doeth  rayne 

Lesser  disdaine;  frely,  therefore,  to  here 

Dare  I  well  gyve  I  say  my  hert  to  yere. 

To  place  these  two  poems  in  juxtaposition  is  cruel  to  Wyatt.  The 
conceit  is  the  same,  but  Marot's  graceful  eight  lines  are  paralleled 
by  twenty-four  with  a  refrain,  composed  entirely  of  monosyllables, 
that  is  grammatically  clumsy.  Fortunately  the  conceit  is  so  ob- 
vious that  it  is  not  necessary  to  infer  that  Wyatt  was  familiar 
with  the  Marot,  for,  if  the  Frenchman  were  the  master,  it  must  be 
confessed  that  he  had  a  poor  pupil. ^  French  influence,  as  repre- 
sented by  the  effect  of  Marot  upon  Wyatt,  is  thus  unexpectedly 
slight. 

More  definite  traces  may  be  found  in  the  connection  between 
Wyatt  and  Melin  de  Saint-Gelais.  Although  older  than  Clement 
Marot,  Saint-Gelais  survived  him  fourteen  years  and  maintained 
"la  veille  tradition  gauloise"  against  the  Pl^iade.  Marot  thus 
apostrophizes  him: 

O  Sainct  Gelais,  creature  gentile, 

Dont  le  scagvoir,  dont  I'esprit,  dont  le  stile, 

Et  dont  le  tout  rend  la  France  honor^e,.  .  .  .' 

The  verses  that  Marot  greets  so  enthusiastically  lack  both  the 
depth  and  the  brilliance  of  his  own.  They  are  light,  rather  clever, 
and  sometimes  rather  broad,  vers  de  societe.  And  as  he  is  with- 
out Marot's  Huguenot  inclinations,  they  probably  better  reflect  the 
gay  court  of  the  time.  Saint-Gelais  is  the  typical  courtier.  As 
he  was  continually  connected  with  the  court,  Wyatt  in  his  various 
embassies  in  all  probability  knew  him  personally.  There  are  three 
poems  in  which  the  resemblance  is  striking.  A  sonnet,  "Like  to 
these  unmesurable  montayns, "  an  epigram,  "Thenmy  of  liff, 
decayer  of  all  kynde,"  and  one  in  the  section  of  miscellaneous 

^  It  is  only  fair  to  Wyatt  to  append  Miss  Foxwell's  comment.  In  her  opinion 
Wyatt  "has  not  come  short  of  the  original."  "This  is  the  best  instance  among 
the  lyrics  of  Wiat's  masteriy  handling  of  material,  in  stamping  his  own  individual- 
ity upon  it."     2,  117-118. 

»Jannet's  ed.  1,  211. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    451 

poems,  "Madame  withouten  many  wordes."  Of  these  three 
the  question  of  the  sonnet  is  the  important  one,  for  reasons  that 
do  not  concern  the  English.  In  the  Epitre  au  lecteur,  prefixed  to 
Du  Bellay's  Olive,  occurs  the  phrasing: 

estant  la  sonnet  d'  Italiea  deuenu  Fransois,  comme  ie  croy,  par  Mellin  de  Sainct 
gelais  .  .  . 

At  the  time  when  these  words  were  written  Saint-Gelais  had  pub- 
lished only  one  edition,  the  1547,  and  in  that  there  was  not  but 
one  sonnet,  the  one  in  question.  Consequently  the  inference  was 
made,  not  unnaturally,  that  this  particular  sonnet  was  the  first 
sonnet  to  be  written  in  French.^  Then  the  dating  followed,  1536, 
because  in  that  year  Saint-Gelais  was  in  view  of  the  Alps!  It  is 
tenuous  reasoning  that  justifies  the  oft-repeated  statement, 
that  the  sonnet  made  its  appearance  in  France  in  1536.  But  this 
chain  of  reasoning  was  overthrown  by  the  discovery  of  Mr.  S. 
Waddington  ^  that  the  Saint-Gelais  sonnet  was  a  translation  of 
one  attributed  to  Sannazaro.^  As  the  three  sonnets,  the  ItaUan, 
French  and  English  are  so  very  much  alike,  there  is  no  doubt  of 
translation.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  general  tendency  was 
to  infer  that  the  order  was,  as  I  have  given  it,  Italian,  French  and 
English.  This  was  assumed  really  without  much  question.  We 
are  so  familiar  with  English  dependence  upon  the  French  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  even  in  the  Elizabethan,  that  in  the  early 
Tudor  period,  given  a  resemblance  between  a  French  and  an  Eng- 
lish poem,  we  automatically  assume  that  the  English  is  a  trans- 
lation from  the  French.  In  this  case  it  is  clearly  not  true,  because 
the  English  is  more  like  the  Italian  than  is  the  French.  The  next 
position  is  that  the  two  writers  translated  from  the  Italian  in- 
dependently. Even  this  seems  to  me  untrue.*  The  single  sonnet 
from  Sannazaro,  translated  by  both  authors,  is  doubtfully  attrib- 

^  Modem  scholarship  has  shown  that  Marot  published  sonnets  much  earlier. 

*  Athenaeum,  July  11,  1891. 

*  Without  knowledge  of  this  note,  subsequently  Mr.  Arthur  Tilley,  Professor 
Kastner  and  myself  each  discovered  the  same  fact  independently. 

*  This  is  the  subject  of  a  controversy  between  Profes.sor  Kastner  and  myself. 
Modem  iMnguage  Notat,  February,  1908;  Professor  Kastner  objected  in  Modem 
Language  Review,  April,  1908;  I  replied  in  Mo<i.  Ixing.  Revictr,  January,  1909;  as 
my  article  was  sent  to  him  in  proof,  he  replied  in  the  same  number;  I  responded 
in  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  January,  1910;  to  my  knowledge  there  has  been  no  reply 
to  this  last. 


452  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

uted  to  him,  and,  as  such,  appears  in  only  four  of  the  ten  editions 
previous  to  1547;  certain  expressions  in  the  French  seem  more 
like  the  English  than  like  the  Italian;  the  riming  in  the  French 
follows  the  English,  not  the  Italian;  and  the  French  terminates  in 
a  couplet,  the  conventional  English  ending.  Any  one  of  these  by 
itself  might  be  accidental,  but  the  cumulative  effect  is  interesting. 
The  solution  cannot  be  proved;  it  is  merely  a  question  which  hy- 
pothesis is  preferable.  Surely  the  assumption  is  more  probable 
that  Saint-Gelais  knew  Wyatt's  sonnet  than  that  two  men  work- 
ing independently  chanced  upon  the  same  author,  chanced  upon 
one  sonnet  only,  chanced  upon  the  same  sonnet,  chanced  upon  a 
sonnet  that  appears  in  but  few  editions,  and  chanced  upon  the 
same  renderings.  But  this  assumption  is  "startling"  not  for  itself, 
but  for  what  it  implies.  And  the  first  implication  is  that 
for  poems  of  the  early  Tudor  period  one  should  be  very  careful  of 
speaking  of  French  "sources."  This  is  applicable  to  the  two 
other  pieces  "borrowed"  from  Saint-Gelais.  The  first  of  these  is 
an  epigram,  the  point  of  which  is  that  the  arrow  of  death  striking 
the  arrow  of  love  already  in  his  heart  only  makes  him  love  the 
more.^  It  is  noticeable  that  the  form  Wyatt  here  employs  is  the 
ottava  rima.  Under  the  circumstances  it  seems  probable  that 
the  original  is  an  unknown  Italian  poem;  further  than  that  it  is 
impossible  to  go.    The  other  consists  of  three  quatrains:  ^ 

Madame  withouten  many  wordes 

0ns,  I  am  sure,  ye  will  or  no: 
And  if  ye  will,  then  leve  your  hordes 

And  use  your  wit,  and  shew  it  so: 
And  with  a  beck  ye  shall  me  call; 

And  if  of  oon  that  bumeth  alwaye 
Ye  have  any  pitie  at  all, 

Aunswer  him  faire  with  ye  or  nay. 
If  it  be  ye,  I  shalbe  fayne: 

If  it  be  nay,  frendes  as  before; 
Ye  shall  an  othr  man  obtain 
And  I  myn  owne  and  youres  no  more. 

The  similarity  between  this  and  Saint-Gelais'  S'amour  mus  a 
donne  au  cueur  en  gage  is  so  marked  as,  I  think,  to  preclude  inde- 

^  Identified  first  by  Emil  Koeppel,  Anglia,  13,  77. 

*  Foxwell's  ed.  1.  83.      Identified  first  by  Miss  Foxwell. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    453 

pendent  working.  The  question  then  arises  whether  both  are 
taken  from  a  common  source,  or  whether  the  one  is  translated 
from  the  other.  It  does  not  seem  to  come  from  the  Italian,  as  the 
attitude  assumed  by  the  lover  is  quite  different  from  the  conven- 
tional Italian  one.  And  it  is  not,  presumably,  due  to  Wyatt,  since 
the  French  version  is  the  more  polished.  Moreover  the  tone  is 
characteristic  of  Saint-Gelais,  the  lightness,  the  cleverness  and  the 
antithesis  at  the  climax : 

Un  autre  aurez  et  moy  ne  pouvant  estre 
Servant  de  vous,  de  moi  je  seray  maistre. 

In  this  case  it  seems  safe  to  assume  that  Saint-Gelais  is  the  master 
and  Wyatt  the  disciple. 

But  granting  this,  we  have  very  little  to  show  altogether  for 
French  influence  on  Wyatt.  In  form  the  rondeau,  and  perhaps  a 
song  or  two,  and  in  content  a  single  epigram!  The  poems  of  the 
"Uncertaine  Authors"  produce  no  more.  If,  as  seems  probable, 
they  belong  to  a  generation  later  than  Wyatt  it  is  easy  to  under- 
stand this  lack.  By  that  time  English  had  settled  down  to  its  own 
development.  If  this  conception  have  any  truth,  French  influence 
would  be  strongest  at  the  beginning  of  the  dynasty,  under  Henry 
VII,  be  strong  in  the  early  years  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII,  and 
gradually  fade  away.  There  are  not  enough  facts  to  enable  us  to 
dogmatize,  but  what  facts  there  are  are  covered  by  this  hypothesis. 
And  in  a  rough  way  it  enables  us  to  give  approximate  dates.  It 
also  explains  why  there  was  so  curiously  little  effect.  The  time, 
when  the  French  influence  upon  the  literature  was  the  strongest, 
was  when  the  social  conditions  were  the  most  unsettled,  and 
when  writing  would  be  less  done  and  printing  most  difficult.  By 
the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,  when  Tottel  printed,  an  im- 
mense quantity  of  the  early  work  must  have  been  lost.  It  is  only 
the  occasional  manuscript  that  has  come  down,  it  is  only  Wyatt 
that  we  have  in  anything  Hke  entirety.  Consequently  the  existing 
literature  very  possibly  is  an  unfair  representative  of  the  amount 
of  French  influence  that  once  existed.  But  surely  however  much 
that  may  have  been,  it  was  confined  within  court  circles.  The 
two  peoples  had  been  hostile  for  a  century,  and  their  writings 
express  antagonism.    But  the  great  reason  wliy  even  in  court  cir- 


454  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

des  it  declined,  was  due  to  the  rise  of  the  Italian.  Consequently 
by  the  time  that  the  poems  in  Tottel's  manuscript  were  collected, 
French  influence  scarcely  appears. 

A  second  implication  may  be  made  from  the  history  of  the  San- 
nazaro-Wyatt-Saint-Gelais  sonnet,  namely  that,  so  far  as  it  is  a 
question  of  Italian  influence,  the  English  was  ahead  of  the  French. 
This  fact  is  not  due  to  any  condition  complimentary  to  the  English 
writers.  The  reasons  for  it  are  two,  one  negative  and  one  positive. 
First,  there  was  no  writer  in  England  comparable  to  Clement 
Marot  to  perpetuate  the  old  tradition.  The  authors  wrote  for 
cliques,  rather  than  for  the  nation  at  large.  There  was  no  general 
sense  of  form,  and  apparently  no  demand  for  it.  Skelton  might 
perhaps  have  unified  the  nation,  but  he  wasted  his  strength  in  lo- 
cal issues  and  lost  in  breadth  what  he  gained  in  intensity.  And 
in  any  case  it  would  have  had  to  be  a  broader,  sweeter,  mel- 
lower Skelton!  And  the  second  reason,  dependent  upon  the  first, 
is  that  the  language  was  still  so  unsettled  that  the  very  medium 
was  lacking  to  the  great  poet.  It  was  an  age  of  innovation,  of 
adjustment.  Perhaps  necessarily  the  writers  were  trying  out  the 
various  systems  of  composition,  feeling  their  way,  as  it  were. 
Under  these  conditions  it  need  be  no  matter  for  surprise  that  the 
EngUsh  writers,  especially  Wyatt,  turned  to  Italy.^ 

That  of  the  European  countries  it  should  have  been  Italy  to 
which  the  poets  of  all  nations  turned  was  inevitable  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. To  the  modern  reader  this  statement  may  need  a  word 
of  explanation;  we  tend  to  think  of  Italy  as  the  location  of  ancient 
Rome  and  of  primitive  Christianity,  a  country  primarily  interest- 
ing only  for  what  it  has  been.  Even  while  we  are  there,  the  great 
past  obscures  the  present  and  we  go  to  modern  Naples  because  it 
is  near  ancient  Pompeii.^  The  increased  use  of  iron  and  coal, — we 
are  living  in  literally  the  Iron  Age — ^has  transferred  the  economic 
power  to  the  northern  nations,  where  these  minerals  may  be  found. 

^  For  the  development  of  English  poetry,  Italian  influence  is  here  considered; 
the  continuity  of  the  French  influence  is  thus  broken,  as  the  effect  of  French  prose 
will  be  taken  up  later. 

*Even  Baedeker  remarks:  "In  historical  and  artistic  interest  this  part  of  the 
Italian  {>eninsula  is  singularly  deficient.  The  dearth  of  handsome  build- 
ings and  indigenous  works  of  art  creates  a  void,  for  which  Herculaneum  and 
Pompeii  with  their  matchless  treasures  of  antiquity  alone  in  some  measure  com- 
pensate."   (!) 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    455 

There  has  been  thus  a  gradual  shifting  of  the  center  of  civilization.^ 
Today  no  one  would  seriously  compare  Florence,  for  example,  with 
London,  Paris,  Beriin,  or  New  York  as  a  worid  factor.  But  in  the 
eariy  sixteenth  century  the  reverse  was  true.  The  Italian  princes 
felt  themselves  world-leaders,  their  courts  were  the  most  brilliant, 
and  their  cities  the  most  beautiful.  The  reasons  for  this  condition 
have  been  outlined  before.  Partly  it  was  due  to  the  fact  that,  ex- 
cept in  the  Lombard  plain,  chivalry  never  took  deep  root,  so  that, 
in  consequence,  the  communes  developed  at  the  expense  of  the 
nobility;  partly  that  the  remains  of  ancient  Rome,  scattered 
broadly  over  the  peninsula,  preserved  memories,  however  inchoate, 
of  another  civilization;  partly  the  geographical  situation  of  Italy, 
so  that  its  people  were  the  first  to  come  again  into  contact  with  the 
Greek  thought  preserved  in  Constantinople;  and  partly,  of  course, 
to  the  susceptibility  of  the  Italians  themselves.  However  ade- 
quate, or  inadequate,  may  be  these  reasons  and  others  like  them, 
the  fact  remains  true  that  while  the  northern  nations  were  still  in 
the  transitional  stage,  in  Italy  the  mode  of  life  was  in  many  respects 
modem.  For  the  northerner  coming  to  these  cities  with  their  paved 
streets,  their  great  palaces  adorned  without  and  within  with  artistic 
masterpieces,  to  a  society,  polished,  elegant,  ordered,  it  was  like 
the  entrance  to  a  new  world. 

Into  this  new  civilization  Wyatt  entered,  arriving  at  Civita 
Vecchia  on  the  fourth  of  February,  1527,  and  reaching  Rome  on  the 
eighth.  On  March  2nd,  he  was  dispatched  to  Venice  in  place  of 
the  ambassador  who  was  ill.  Instead  of  joining  the  party  at  Rome 
via  Bologna  and  Florence,  he  made  a  side  trip  down  to  Ferrara, 
on  his  return  from  which  he  was  captured  by  the  Spanish  troops  of 
the^m|>eror.  In  spite  of  a  safe-conduct  from  the  Duke  of  Ferrara, 
he  was  held  for  a  ransom  of  three  thousand  ducats.  Whether  the 
ransom  was  paid,  or  remitted,  or  whether  he  escaped  is  uncertain; 
all  that  is  known  is  that  on  April  sixth  he  appeared  at  Bologna. 
Early  in  May  the  party  returned  to  England,  via  Lyons  and  Paris. 
The  Italy  that  he  had  seen  in  these  three  months  was  an  Italy  dis- 
tracted by  war.  The  embassy  in  which  he  had  a  part  was  designed 
to  encourage  the  Pope,  and  his  journey  to  Venice  was  also  to  bring 

'  It  is  an  interesting  speculation  whether  with  the  increased  use  of  electricity, 
which  may  be  generated  by  water-power  from  the  Apennines,  Italy  may  not  again 
come  to  the  fore. 


456  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

together  the  Confederates.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  futile,  as  the 
army  of  the  Emperor,  under  the  Connetable  de  Bourbon  marched 
south  and  on  the  fifth  of  May  took  Rome.  In  the  first  assault  the 
Connetable  was  killed  by  a  ball  from  an  arquebus, — fired  according 
to  his  own  story  by  Cellini  himself — and  the  soldiers,  left  without  a 
leader,  put  Rome  to  a  sack  paralleled  only  by  that  of  the  Goths  nine 
hundred  years  before.^  With  events  of  this  kind  going  on,  it  is  hard 
to  imagine  a  young  man  of  twenty-four  talking  literature!  Al- 
though it  is  idle  to  speculate  upon  the  great  and  wonderful  men  he 
might  have  met,  it  is  probable  that  he  would  bring  back  an  in- 
tense interest  in  the  country  where  he  had  had  so  many  exciting 
experiences. 

It  is  certain,  in  any  case,  that  he  brought  back  an  interest  in  Ital- 
ian literature.  This  apparently  was  the  opinion  in  his  own  day.^ 
It  certainly  was  the  opinion  of  the  next  age.  Puttenham,  writing 
in  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  states  this  definitely:  ^ 

In  the  latter  end  of  the  same  kings  raigne  sprong  vp  a  new  company  of  courtly 
makers,  of  whom  Sir  Thomas  Wyat  th'elder  and  Henry  Earle  of  Siurey  were  the 
two  chief taines,  who  hauing  trauailed  into  Italic,  and  there  tasted  the  sweete 
and  stately  measures  and  stile  of  the  Italian  Poesie  as  nou^ces  newly  crept  out 
of  the  schooles  of  Dante  Arioste  and  Petrarch,  they  greatly  pollished  our  rude 
and  homely  maner  of  vulgar  Poesie,  from  that  it  had  been  before,  and  for  that 
cause  may  iustly  be  sayd  the  first  reformers  of  our  English  meetre  and  stile. 

Puttenham  here  brackets  together  Dante,  Ariosto,  and  Petrarch. 
Of  the  three,  it  is  Petrarch  alone  that  influenced  Wyatt.  It  is 
quite  possible  that  in  his  jaunt  to  Ferrara  Wyatt  might  have  met 
Ariosto,  but  this  hypothetical  meeting  has  left  practically  no 
traces  in  his  work.'*    Of  the  other  two,  in  spite  of  the  preference  of 

^  The  celebrated  analysis  of  these  events  is  to  be  fotmd  in  the  Eighteenth  Book 
of  Guiccardini's  Historia.  Five  contemporary  accounts  have  been  collected  by 
Carlo  Milanesi  under  the  title  11  Sacco  di  Roma  del  MDXXVII,  Florence,  1867. 

*  Leland  (Naeniae  in  mortem  Thomae  Viati  equitia  incomparabilia,  1542)  com- 
pares him  to  Dante  and  Petrarch. 

'  Puttenham's  The  Arte  of  English  Poesie,  Arber's  Reprint,  74.  This  common- 
place would  need  no  emphasis,  had  not  Lee  with  a  vast  amount  of  ingenuity  en- 
deavored to  subordinate  Italian  influence  to  French. 

*  Koeppel  {Romaniache  Forschungen,  5,  72)  sees  a  resemblance  in  two  epigrams 
to  Ariosto.  (a)  Epigram  4,  "The  wandering  gadlyng"  where  the  comparison 
is  used  of  a  man  who  starts  aside  to  avoid  treading  on  a  snake;  the  same  com- 
parison is  used  in  the  Orlando  C.  1,  st.  11  and  C.  39,  st.  32;  but  it  is  surely  com- 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    457 

the  modem  reader,  it  is  Petrarch  that  was  the  chosen  model  of  the 
Renaissance.  Dante  is  serious,  mystic,  grand,  but  he  is  not  social. 
He  remains  austere,  with  contemptuous  indifference  for  us  little 
men.  And  to  us  his  work  seems  the  epitome  of  the  great  soul  of  a 
long  distant  past.  But  medievalism  was  not  long  distant  to  the 
Renaissance;  it  was  the  immediate  past  that  they  were  endeavoring 
to  outgrow  and  longing  to  forget,  not  the  superficial  past  of  tourney 
and  court  of  love,  but  the  real  past  of  the  mind.  When  it  was  the 
fashion  to  discuss  Platonism,  and  God  was  mythologized,  and  the 
pope  was  agnostic, — what  could  such  a  worid  find  sympathetic  in 
the  pages  of  Dante?  They  admired  him,  talked  about  him  occa- 
sionally, sometimes  read  him,  but  very  rarely  imitated  him.  His 
great  stanza,  the  terza  rima,  which  we  today  associate  with  the 
terrors  of  Hell  and  the  blaze  of  Heaven,  in  their  hands  was  debased 
to  verse  epistles  and  to  obscene  capitoh.  So  the  presence  of  the 
terza  rima  in  a  writer  of  this  period  suggests  a  reading  quite  the 
contrary  from  Dante !  But  if  Dante  summarizes  the  past,  Petrarch 
begins  the  present.  In  his  subjectivity,  the  consciousness  of  his 
own  individuality,  in  his  eager  curiosity,  his  love  of  nature,  in  the 
very  complexity  of  his  desires  and  the  contradictions  of  liis  am- 
bitions, he  is  modem.  During  his  lifetime  he  had  an  immense 
reputation, — he  tells  us  so  himself!  That  reputation  was  largely 
based  upon  his  works  in  Latin,  such  as  his  Eclogues  and  his  epic, 
Africa.  In  his  own  mind  and  in  that  of  his  immediate  successors, 
these  Latin  works  constituted  his  chief  claim  to  fame.  For  at 
least  a  century  they  carried  the  name  of  Petrarch  to  the  uttermost 
boundaries  of  Europe.  At  the  same  time  that  he  was  composing  in 
Latin,  he  was  gradually  accumulating  poems  in  Italian,  the  Rime, 
or  the  Canzoniere}  This  consists  of  three  hundred  and  seventeen 
sonnets,  twenty-nine  canzoni,  nine  sestine,  seven  ballate,  and  four 
madrigali.  It  purports  to  tell  of  an  ideal  love  lasting  twenty  years 
during  the  life  of  the  Lady  Laura  and  ten  years  after  her  death. 
Interspersed  arc  some  occasional  pieces,  and  some  attacks.  It  con- 
monplace:  (b)  Epigram  19,  "From  the  hye  hillcs"  where  the  compariaon  of  love 
to  a  flooded  river  is  made;  much  the  same  comparison  is  made  in  Electa  Quinta 
V.  7-12.  As  these  were  not  published  until  1537,  either  Wyatt's  epigram  is  very 
late,  or  he  learned  it  verbally,  or  it  is  merely  a  coincidence. 

'  In  the  Willard  Fiske  Collection  in  the  Cornell  University  Library  there  are 
430  editions  of  the  Rime  (Cf.  Catalogue  compiiwl  by  Mary  Fowler,  1916).  The 
edition  I  shall  use  is  that  by  Scherillo,  Milan,  1DU8. 


458  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

stituted,  therefore,  a  fairly  large  body  of  verse  from  which  to  draw 
and  one  which,  moreover,  offered  models  for  the  types  of  composi- 
tion most  in  demand.  Woman  was  taking  her  place  in  society,  not 
that  of  the  lonely  medieval  chS,telaine,  but  that  of  the  modern 
hostess.  In  her  presence  grossness  of  expression  must  be  refined 
and  pruriency  purged  away.  And  however  licentious  she  may  be 
in  reality,  convention  demands  that  she  be  considered  chaste  as 
Diana  and  cold  as  Penelope.  Yet,  to  her,  love  is  the  most  interest- 
ing subject  in  the  world.  To  such  a  society  it  is  evident  at  once  how 
strong  an  appeal  was  made  by  Petrarch's  subject-matter.  Here  all 
stages  and  phases  of  love,  dehght,  desire,  despair,  regret,  are  elabo- 
rately and  delicately  expressed.  The  very  vagueness  in  Petrarch's 
description  of  Laura  was  advantageous;  he  left  the  face  blank,  as  it 
were,  so  that  each  lover  might  fill  the  space  with  the  portrait  of  his 
own  inamorata.  When  a  man  is  in  love,  his  lady  surely  has  the 
begli  occhi,  and,  unless  jetty  black,  the  chiome  d'oro  of  Laura.  Still 
more,  all  this  was  done  in  a  series  of  short  poems,  imitations  of 
which  could  easily  be  slipped  into  the  lady's  hand  or  whispered  in 
her  ear  as  she  stood  in  the  embrasure  of  the  window.  Other  sonnets 
express  thanks  for  gifts  received,  turn  compliments,  congratu- 
late,— it  is  quite  comprehensible,  I  think,  Petrarch's  vogue  during 
the  Renaissance. 

Moreover,  Petrarch  is  not  only  a  great  poet,  he  is  also  a  great 
artist,  a  conscious  artist.  These  pK)ems,  written  in  the  fire  of 
youth  and  under  the  immediate  stimulus  of  the  events,  were  later 
in  his  old  age  carefully  reworked  and  re-arranged.^  And  we  have 
even  his  own  comments  upon  his  sonnets.^  For  example,  at  the 
head  of  sonnet  211  is  written: 

Minim,  hoc  cancellatum  et  damnatum,  post  multos  annos  casu  relegens,  ab- 
solvi,  et  transcripsi  in  ordine  statim,  1369,  junij  22,  hora  23,  veneris.  Non  ob- 
stante, pauca  postea,  die  27  in  vesperis,  mutavi  fine,  et  de  hoc  finis  erit.  .  .    . 

On  the  lower  margin  of  the  page  in  which  sonnet  155  appears  is 
written: 

^This  is  the  celebrated  Cod.  3195  in  the  Vatican.  Although  only  one  third 
of  this  is  in  the  hand  of  Petrarch,  the  whole  was  revised,  corrected,  and  arranged 
by  him.     It  is  the  definite  copy  of  the  work. 

*Cod.  3196  in  the  Vatican. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    459 

Attende  quod  hos  4  versus  veait  in  anlmum  mutare,  ut  qui  primi  sunt  essent 
ultimi,  et  e  converso:  sed  dimisi  propter  sonum  principii  et  finis,  et  quia  sonan- 
tiora  erant  in  medio,  rauciora  in  principio  et  fine:  quod  est  contra  rethoricam.  .  . 

Opposite  the  beginning  of  the  canzone  268  appears : 

Non  videtur  satis  triste  principlum.  .  . 

Without  citing  further,  these  are  enough  to  justify  Sig.  Finzi's 
conclusion:  ^ 

Commenced,  one  may  say,  with  the  ardor  of  a  lover,  continued  with  minute 
care  through  more  than  ten  lusters,  elaborated,  corrected,  arranged  with  the 
feeling  of  an  artist,  the  Canzoniere  is  not  a  collection  of  historic  and  psychologic 
documents  on  the  love  of  Petrarch  for  Laura.  It  is  an  elaboration,  artistic,  slow, 
and  manifold,  of  the  motive  which  dominated  poetry  for  more  than  a  century  in 
Provence  and  Italy.  On  this  general  motive  of  art,  the  poet  has  grafted  the  per- 
sonal motive  of  his  love  for  Laura,  melting  the  two  elements  into  a  work  which, 
on  account  of  its  perfection,  remains  one  and  indivisible,  and  which  cannot  be 
discomposed  so  that  they  appear  sharply  distinct. 

Fortunately  the  objective  reality  of  Laura  does  not  concern 
us  here.  Whether  she  be  an  allegorical  figure,  or  the  composite  of 
all  Petrarch's  loves,  or  the  single  dominant  love  of  his  life, — ^and 
each  of  these  has  been  argued  by  eminent  scholars,  usually  with 
more  heat  than  Ught — whether  the  famous  note  in  the  Ambros- 
iana  Vergil  be  a  forgery  to  increase  the  value  of  the  book  (as  was 
believed  in  the  sixteenth  century  ^)  or  genuine  (as  is  the  more  usual 
view  today),  and  what  was  her  name, — these  questions  form  a 
veritable  morass  of  scholarship.  It  is  enough  to  mark  the  detour 
but  to  keep  to  the  turnpike,  namely  that  the  sixteenth  century 
believed  the  story  of  the  poems.  They  became  interested  in  the 
biography  of  the  poet.  In  1525  Vellutello  published  the  first  elab- 
orate life,  the  result  of  his  personal  research  in  Avignon.  Whereas 
the  quattrocento  writers  cared  little  for  the  life  of  Petrarch  and 

'  Petrarea,  Giuseppe  Finzl;  Firenze,  1900,  108. 

*"onde  noi  tegniamo,  che  tal  epist.  sia  stata  posta  in  esso  libro  solamente  per 
far  credere  che  stato  sia  di  lui,  e  tanto  maggiormentc,  per  non  esser  di  sua  mano, 
come  affermano  tutti  quelli,  che  n'hanno  hauuto  notitia".  .  Alcssandro  Vellutello, 
1525  .  .  and  through  the  century.  My  own  edition  happens  to  be  1530  .  .  .*'onde 
crediamo  non  esser  del  Poeta  quclla  Epistola,  laquale  scritta  di  sua  mano  in  un 
Virgilio  dicono  hauer  truouato  nella  librariii  di  Pauia  .  .  Giovanni  Andrea  Gesualdo, 
15S3.     My  own  edition  happens  to  be  that  of  1553. 


460  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

imitated  individual  sonnets,  the  dnquecenio  discussed  elaborately 
biographical  problems  and  regarded  the  whole  as  an  unified  work 
of  art.  There  are  two  sharply  differentiated  phases  in  Petrarchan 
imitation,  (a)  the  quattrocento  imitation  of  separate  poems,  and 
(b)  the  cinquecento  imitation  of  the  Rime  as  a  whole.  As  confusion 
reigns  without  this  distinction  I  have  tried  to  mark  it  by  calling 
the  first  Peirarchism  and  by  keeping  the  Italian  term  Peirar- 
chismo  for  the  second.^ 

The  second  need  not  detain  us  long,  and  the  reasons  for  its  ex- 
istence in  Italy  do  not  here  concern  us.^  The  main  fact  is  that  un- 
der the  leadership  of  Bembo,  who  had  edited  the  first  Aldine 
edition,  Petrarch  was  accepted  as  the  great  literary  model, 
and  that  imitations  of  his  Rime  filled  the  air.  But  it  was  not  only 
this.  It  passed  into  imitations  of  imitations;  it  became  an  in- 
sincere literary  fashion  in  which  Petrarch  figures  only  as  the  first 
of  the  type.  It  was  this  last  that  spread  over  Europe  the  last  half 
of  the  century.    M.  Pieri  defines  it  thus:  ^ 

Petrarchismo  is  the  art  of  treating  cleverly  and  wittily  matters  of  the  heart, 
of  composing  love-poems  without  the  emotion  in  the  soul,  of  feigning  passion 
for  an  imaginary  mistress,  and  of  singing  a  fiction  of  amorous  intrigue,  whose 
phases  and  whose  stages  are  fixed,  and,  as  it  were,  established  by  an  immovable 
tradition.  To  succeed  in  this  type  our  sixteenth-century  poets  needed  only  a 
little  learning  and  imagination,  a  great  deal  of  memory,  and  a  certain  ability  in 
the  art  of  composition. 

This  type  is  quite  familiar  to  the  English  reader  in  the  Amoretti 
of  Spenser,  the  Delia  of  Daniel,  the  Idea  of  Drayton,  or  any  of  the 
other  Elizabethan  sonnet-cycles.  Although  Petrarchismo  did  not 
affect  Wyatt,  it  is  important  because  it  did  affect  his  commen- 
tators. In  the  England  of  the  sixteenth  century  biographic  de- 
tails are  very  rare.  Quite  naturally  therefore,  scholars,  not  under- 
standing the  nature  of  the  fashion,  seized  upon  such  sonnet-cycles 
as  being  the  outpourings  of  the  heart  of  various  poets.  ^  The  monu- 
mental edition  of  Wyatt  by  George  Fred.  Nott  was  brought  out 

^  Cf.  Definition  of  Petrarchismo,  Pub,  Mod.  Lan.  Ass.  1909,  XXIV,  4. 

*  This  has  been  brilliantly  expressed  by  Arturo  Graf,  Attraverao  il  Cinquecento, 
1888. 

»  Marius  Pi6ri,  P^trarque  et  Ronsard,  1896,  268. 

*  Cf.  The  Preface  to  Sir.  Sidney  Lee's  Elizabethan  Sonnets,  or  his  chapter  in 
the  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature  3,  281. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    461 

in  1816  when  the  romantic  movement  was  at  its  height.  Quite  in 
accordance  with  the  strictest  principles  of  romance,  he  finds  Wyatt 
involved  in  a  beautiful,  but  hopeless,  passion  for  Anne  Boleyn.* 

As  no  regular  detail  of  the  history  of  Wyatt's  attachmeat  to  Anne  Boleyn 
has  been  preserved,  we  must  be  content  to  connect  the  few  facts  we  do  know 
respecting  it  by  conjecture.  .  .  Anne  Boleyn's  personal  charms  and  manners 
were  such  as  could  not  but  have  attracted  Wyatt's  admiration,  whilst  his  own 
were  of  a  nature  likely  to  make  an  impression  upon  her  youthful  and  susceptible 
mind.  .  .  It  is  true  that  Wyatt  was  then  a  married  man;  and  that  he  therefore 
could  not  aspire  to  more  than  Anne  Boleyn's  confidence  and  friendship.  These 
she  deemed  herself  at  liberty  to  give.  .  Thus  circumstanced,  we  may  believe 
Wyatt  and  Anne  Boleyn  to  have  mutually  regarded  each  other  with  the  lively 
tenderness  of  an  innocent,  but  a  dangerous  friendship.  Often,  I  have  no  doubt 
did  Wyatt  make  her  the  subject  of  his  most  impassioned  strains:  and  often  did 
she  listen  with  complacency  to  his  numbers,  which,  while  they  gratified  her  love 
of  present  admiration,  promised  to  confer  upon  her  charms  some  portion  of 
that  poetic  immortaUty  which  the  romantic  passion  of  Petrarch  had  bestowed 
upon   Laura's. 

Wyatt's  attachment  for  the  Queen  "as  virtuous  as  she  was  beau- 
tiful " — to  judge  from  her  portraits  this  at  least  is  true ! — has  passed 
into  literary  legend.  The  difficulty  with  it  is  that  it  is  confessedly 
founded  upon  pure  conjecture.  Unfortunately  I  do  not  know  that 
it  can  be  disproved.  It  is  possible  that  he  did  burn  with  love  for 
Anne,  but  the  facts,  as  given  us  by  the  State  Papers,  scarcely  justify 
that  conclusion.  Wyatt  must  have  been  married  in  1520  or  1521 
to  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Thomas  Brooke,  Lord  Cobham,^  that 
is  when  he  was  about  eighteen  years  old.  As  marriages  then  were 
arranged  by  the  parents,  this  does  not  necessarily  mean  that  he 
had  been  in  love.  He  must  have  just  left  college.  From  this  date 
he,  and  presumably  his  wife,  were  at  the  Court,  as  entries  show 
that  he  was  employed  in  "the  King's  aflfairs  in  the  north"  on  three 
occasions.  And  on  Christmas  day,  1525,  he  took  part  in  a  tourna- 
ment. On  the  other  hand,  Anne,  born  150S  and  educated  in  France, 
began  her  life  at  the  EngUsh  Court  in  1522.^  Her  sister,  Mary,  at 
about  this  time  was  Henry's  mistress.    Her  interest  lay  in  getting 

»  The  Works  of  Surrey  and  Wyatt,  Geo.  Fred.  Nott.  1818.  «.  xx. 

*  In  the  inquisition  on  his  affairs  dated  Januarj'  8.  1543,  his  son  is  described 
as  being  "of  the  age  of  twenty-one  years  and  upwards."      Nott,  2,  Ixxiv. 

»  For  the  facts  in  Anne's  life  consult  Friedman's  Anne  Boleyn,  1884,  and  MarUn 
Hume,  Wives  oj  Henry  VIII.  1005. 


462  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

married  and  in  1526  she  won  Henry  Percy,  the  eldest  son  of  the 
Duke  of  Northumberland;  but  the  engagement  was  broken,  per- 
haps by  the  order  of  the  King.^  In  March  1526  Wyatt  accom- 
panied Sir  Thomas  Cheney  to  France.  As  for  the  next  six  years 
Wyatt  was  abroad  for  the  greater  part  of  the  time  and  Anne  herself 
was  occupied  with  the  King,  the  love  affair  must  have  occurred 
either  before  his  foreign  travels,  or  on  his  return  in  1532.  If  be- 
fore, Wyatt  was  superseded  not  by  one  rival,  but  by  two.  To  his 
contemporaries  it  would  not  have  been  the  King  that  snatched  her 
away;  it  would  have  been  young  Percy,  a  fact  that  appreciably 
lessens  the  romance.  On  his  return  he  was  present  at  the  coro- 
nation. Under  the  date  of  May  15,  1534,  a  letter  to  Lord  Lisle, 
then  commandant  of  Calais,  gives  the  information  that  Wyatt  had 
been  sent  to  the  Fleet  prison  on  account  of  an  "affray"  with  the 
sergeants  of  London,  "  in  which  one  of  the  sergeants  was  slain."^ 
Up  to  this  time,  so  far  as  the  records  show,  there  is  nothing  to  con- 
nect him  particularly  with  Anne.  He  must  have  known  her,  their 
fathers  were  friends,  and  they  were  both  at  Court,  but  even  that 
is  inferential.  The  record  shows  him  to  have  been  a  young  married 
man,  within  the  narrowest  circle  of  the  Court,  and  of  recognized 
ability,  but  turbulent.    That  is  all. 

There  are  two  circumstances,  however,  that  lend  support  to  the 
traditional  theory.  The  first  of  these  is  connected  with  the  exe- 
cution of  Anne  Boleyn.  Beginning  with  May-day,  1536,  when 
Cromwell  wrung  by  torture  a  confession  from  Mark  Smeaton,  to 
May  19,  when  Anne  herself  went  to  her  death,  all  England  was 
vitally  interested  in  the  question  of  the  extent  of  the  guilt  of  the 
Queen.  And  this  interest  was  not  merely  sentimental.  The  ques- 
tion affected  the  legitimacy  of  Elizabeth  and  the  succession  to  the 
throne.  Mary,  the  child  of  Katherine  of  Aragon,  the  hope  of  the 
old,  the  Catholic  party,  had  been  rendered  illegitimate  by  the 
divorce.^  Although  the  law  of  1534  had  declared  Elizabeth  legiti- 
mate, a  confession  of  Anne  to  Cranmer,  in  alleging  some  mysterious 

*  Cavendish's  lAje  qf  Wolaey.  This  is  easily  accessible  in  the  New  Universal 
Library. 

*  I  am  following  here  Professor  Simonds  identification. 

*  The  word  divorce  is,  of  course,  misleading;  neither  Henry,  nor  Katherine,  would 
have  used  it — according  to  the  one,  no  marriage  had  taken  place;  according  to 
the  other,  no  "divorce"  was  possible. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    463 

impediment  to  the  marriage,  rendered  her  status  doubtful.  As  the 
Duke  of  Richmond  died  July  twenty-second  of  this  same  year,  and 
as  later  only  the  sickly  Edward  stood  between  his  half-sisters  and 
the  crown,  during  the  sixteenth  century  the  question  could  never 
be  discussed  impartially.  To  the  Catholic  party  Anne  was  the 
object  of  all  abuse,  and  to  the  Protestants  a  belief  in  her  pearl-like 
innocence  was  an  article  of  faith.  Nor  does  this  stop  with  the  ac- 
cession of  Elizabeth,  for  the  claim  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  to  the 
English  throne  perpetuated  the  discussion.  Consequently  the 
statement  of  every  author  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  biassed  by 
his  party  views.  The  question  cannot  be  said  to  have  been  settled 
today.  State  trials  were  then  largely  a  matter  of  form  and  the 
guilt  of  the  accused  was  decided  before  the  trial  began.  Hearsay 
evidence  was  admitted,  back-stairs  gossip,  twisted  scandal,  casual 
conversations, — and  the  verdict  was  pronounced.  Whether  or 
not  guilty,  Anne  was  sacrificed  in  the  game  of  high  politics. 

The  subject  concerns  Wyatt,  since  on  the  tenth  of  May  he  was 
imprisoned  in  the  Tower.  The  whole  problem  turns  on  the  ques- 
tion of  the  charge.  There  is  no  doubt  that  to  the  minds  of  his  con- 
temporaries the  reason  for  his  arrest  was  because,  with  the  others, 
he  was  involved  with  the  Queen.  A  correspondence  of  John  Hus- 
sey  to  Lord  Lisle  proves  this,  and  a  note  from  Chapuis.^  And 
this  belief  was  not  confined  to  the  Court.^  Therefore,  it  is  not 
surprising  to  find  in  the  partisan  accounts,  written  about  1550 
when  the  question  of  the  succession  was  uppermost,  that  Wyatt 
is  listed  in  the  number  of  Anne's  criminal  lovers,  with  the  actual 
conversations  given  and  the  circumstantial  details  that  are  char- 
acteristic of  such  publications,  and  in  process  of  time  it  passed  into 
a  family  tradition.  Thus  there  is  no  difficulty  in  finding  writers 
that  believe  firmly  in  Wyatt *s  love,  in  the  last  analysis  based  upon 
the  fact  of  his  imprisonment  at  this  time.  But  it  is  quite  possible 
that  his  being  imprisoned  at  this  time  was  merely  a  coincidence. 
As  this  view  is  not  often  expressed  it  is  worth  while  to  state 
it  fully.  In  the  first  place  this  seems  to  have  been  the  opinion 
of  Wyatt  himself!  When  in  1541  he  was  again  imprisoned  on 
a  political  charge  arising  from  his  embassies,  one  of  the  reasons 
given  for  thinking  him  guilty  of  treason  was  his  anger  on  account 

'  These  are  given  in  full  by  Simonds,  op.  cit.,  34. 

*  Spanish  Chronicle  of  Henry  VIII,  ed.  Martin  Hume. 


464  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

of  the  imprisonment  in  1536.  In  an  "oration"  to  the  judges,  he 
elaborately  refutes  this :  ^ 

For  it  is  so  far  from  my  desire  to  revenge  that  I  never  imputed  to  the  King's 
Highness  my  imprisonment;  and  hereof  can  Mr.  Lieutenant  here  present  testify 
to  whom  I  did  ever  impute  it.  Yea  and  further;  my  Lord  of  Suffolk  himself  can 
tell  that  I  imputed  it  to  hira,  and  not  only  at  the  beginning  but  even  the  very 
night  before  my  apprehension  now  last.  .  . 

This  is  important  because  the  persons  whom  he  was  addressing 
must  have  known  the  true  cause,  and  must  have  heard  the  Anne 
Boleyn  story.  If,  therefore,  he  was  giving  the  wrong  interpre- 
tation to  the  former  imprisonment,  he  was  making  an  extremely 
poor  case.  But  his  conception  of  the  reason  for  the  charge  is 
indirectly  sustained  by  the  correspondence  of  his  father.^  On  May 
7th,  Sir  Henry  writes  that,  as  he  can  do  his  duty  to  the  King  in 
this  dangerous  time  that  his  Grace  has  suffered  by  false  traitors, 
he  desires  his  son  to  give  the  King  due  attendance  night  and  day. 
He  ends  by  expressing  the  pious  hope  that  the  false  traitors  be 
punished  as  an  example  to  others.  By  the  eleventh  he  has  learned 
of  the  news,  apparently  from  Cromwell:  ^  After  thanking  him  he 
adds: 

And  whensoever  it  shall  be  the  king's  pleasure  with  your  help  to  deliver  him, 
that  ye  will  show  him  that  his  punishment  that  he  hath  for  this  matter  is  more 
for  the  displeasure  that  he  hath  done  to  God  otherwise,  wherein  I  beseech  you  to 
advertise  him  to  fly  vice  and  serve  God  better  than  he  hath  done. 

and  in  a  later  letter  to  Cromwell  he  tells  him  that  he  has  enjoined 
upon  Thomas  "  the  leaving  of  such  slanderous  fashion  as  hath  en- 
gendered unto  him  both  the  displeasure  of  God  and  his  master." 
Now,  if  Wyatt  had  been  imprisoned  on  suspicion  of  complicity 
of  adultery  with  the  Queen  of  England,  such  expressions  would 
entitle  the  correspondence  to  take  rank  among  the  curiosities  of 
literature.  If  the  crime  for  which  four  men  had  just  been  executed 
was  in  Sir  Henry's  mind  merely  "vice"  and  a  "slanderous  fashion," 
the  mind  is  awed  at  the  thought  of  what  he  would  consider  crimi- 
nal!  The  rational  explanation  is  that  in  1536,  also,  Wyatt  had  en- 

^  Nott,  op.  cit.,  2,  299-800. 

*  This  first  letter  is  quoted  from  Simonds,  op.  cit.,  32  note. 

'Aldine  ed.    1866,  XX-XXII. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    465 

gaged  in  an  "affray";  this  time  unfortunately,  instead  of  the  mild- 
mannered  cits,  he  had  encountered  the  retinue  of  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  so  that  he  found  himself  in  the  Tower.  It  may  be  thought 
this  conjecture  will  help  in  explaining  the  lacunae  in  a  badly  muti- 
lated letter  from  Kyngston,  Keeper  of  the  Tower,  to  Cromwell  re- 
porting Anne's  behavior.^ 

....  I  also  sayd  Mr.  Page  and  Wyet  wase  mo  than  she  sayd  he  ha.  .  ,  . 

one  hys  fyst  tother  day  and  ys  here  now  hot  ma I  shall  desyre  you  to 

bayre  a  letter  from  me.  .  .  Secretary.  .  .  e  hath  asked  my  wyfe  whether  hony 
body  makes  theyr  beddes.  .  .  .  y  wyf  ansured  and  sayd.  Nay,  I  warant  you; 
then  she  say.  .  .  y  might  make  balettes  well  now,  bot  there  ys  non  bot.  .  .  do 
that  can  do  it.      Yese  sayd  my  wyf  Master  Wyett  by.  .  .  .  sayd  trew. 

Following  Professor  Simonds,  one  is  tempted  to  read:  "Then 
she  said,  he  had  hit  one  (with)  his  fist  the  other  day  and  is  here 
now,  but  may  soon  be  released.  .  ." 

But  conjecture  aside,  the  conversation  shows  on  the  part  of  Anne 
no  appreciation  of  possible  danger  to  Wyatt.  Nor  was  there  any 
danger,  since  he  was  shortly  released,  knighted,  and  sent  on  an 
embassy,  surely  a  curious  result  to  come  from  an  arrest  on  such  a 
charge  and  from  such  a  king  as  Henry  VIII.  Consequently,  while 
it  is  possible  to  explain  the  stories  as  arising  from  the  imprison- 
ment, it  seems  to  me  impossible  to  reconcile  the  incidental  refer- 
ence in  the  correspondence  with  the  details  of  tlie  stories.  And  of 
the  two  we  know  that  the  correspondence  is  genuine.  If  this  be 
true,  we  must  bid  a  long  farewell  to  a  romantic  tale  that  has  stead- 
ily held  its  own  for  three  centuries. 

In  this  connection  tliere  usually  follows,  apparently  as  sort  of 
palliation  for  Wyatt's  presumed  relations  with  the  Queen,  a  state- 
ment that  his  marital  relations  were  unhappy.  In  the  Calendar 
of  State  Papers  the  first  reference  to  this  is  on  March  29,  1537,  in 
a  letter  from  Lord  Cobham,  Wyatt's  brother-in-law. 

I  beg  you  will  be  so  good  lord  to  my  poor  sister  Wyatt  as  to  write  your  favor- 
able letters  to  Mr.  Wyatt  before  his  departure  (appointed  to  be  on  Saturday 
next  from  Dover)  desiring  him  to  remcml)er  his  poor  wife  and  give  her  some- 
thing reasonable  towards  her  living,  for  Mr.  Palmer  sent  her  to  me  to  Cobham 
Hall,  saying  Mr.  Wyatt  would  not  6nd  her  any  longer.  I  used  every  effort  to 
make  him  grant  her  some  honest  living,   but  he  would  promise  nothing.     I  wrote 

'  Quoted  from  Simonds,  op.  cit.,  SS  (note). 


466  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

to  Sir  John  Russell  to  speak  to  him,  and  he  said  he  would  give  her  something, 
but  soon  after  told  my  servant  he  would  not.  I  also  got  Sir  Wm.  Hawte  to  break 
the  matter  to  him,  and  Master  Henry  Wyid  and  his  brother,  but  all  to  no  pur- 
pose. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  on  his  return  from  this  embassy  he 
was  sent  to  the  Tower  "so  bound  and  fettered  that  one  must  think 
ill."  Marillac  the  writer  of  this,  January  18th,  1541,  thus  con- 
tinues : 

It  is  the  third  time  Hoyet  has  been  there,  and  apparently  it  will  be  the  last, 
for  this  must  be  some  great  matter  and  he  has  for  enemies  all  who  leagued  against 
Cromwell,  whose  minion  he  was.  The  earl  of  Rotellan,  of  the  house  of  "  Clerence, " 
his  father-in-law,  will  do  his  worst,  because  Hoyet  treated  his  daughter  badly, 
whom  he  took  in  adultery  and  afterwards  defamed.  Although  he  is  more  re- 
gretted than  any  man  taken  in  England  these  three  years,  both  by  Englishmen 
and  strangers,  no  man  has  the  boldness  to  say  a  word  for  him,  and  by  these  fine 
laws  he  must  be  judged  without  knowing  why. 

As  has  already  been  said,  he  was  pardoned.  The  conditions  of  the 
pardon  are  told  by  Chapuys  to  the  Emperor,  March  21st.  The 
Queen, — by  this  time  it  is  Katharine  Howard, — 

took  occasion  to  ask  release  of  Wyatt,  which  the  King  granted,  though  on  hard 
conditions,  viz.  (1)  that  he  should  confess  his  guilt,  and  (2)  that  he  should  take 
back  his  wife  from  whom  he  had  been  separated  upwards  of  15  years,  on  pain 
of  death  if  he  be  untrue  to  her  henceforth. 

This  may  have  been  spontaneous  chivalry  on  Henry's  part  but  an 
entry,  February  9th,  of  the  following  year,  1542,  casts  a  rather 
sinister  shadow:  ( 

She  to  whom,  for  the  time  he  (Henry)  showed  most  favor  and  affection  was  the 
sister  of  Lord  Coban  and  the  wife  whom  Mr.  Hoyet  repudiated  for  adultery.  She 
is  a  beautiful  girl  with  wit  enough,  if  she  tried,  to  do  as  badly  as  the  others. 

As  this  same  year  her  son  was  twenty-one  she  must  have  preserved 
her  beauty  remarkably.  And  this  same  year,  also,  Wyatt  died.  In 
spite  of  his  having  defamed  her,  she  married  again,  and  died  in 
1560.  Apparently  in  the  opinion  of  the  age,  adultery  was  not 
a  serious  bar  to  marital  relations,  and  Wyatt's  objections  to  it 
were  unusual.  But  under  these  conditions  his  attitude  was  some- 
what inconsistent,  if  at  the  same  time  he  had  entered  into  a  simi- 
lar relation  with  the  wife  of  his  lord  and  master.  Of  course  the 
horridness  of  such  a  story  as  this  of  Wyatt  and  Anne  can  never  be 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    467 

absolutely  disproved.  All  that  can  be  done  is  to  show  the  bal- 
ance of  probability.  There  was  then  some  intimacy.  Margaret 
Wyatt,  his  sister,  accompanied  Anne  to  the  scaffold  and  received 
from  her  a  book  of  prayers.  Now  surely  it  is  scarcely  credible  that 
Margaret  went  with  the  queen  with  the  expectation  shortly  of 
accompanying  her  own  brother  to  a  similar  scene  on  account  of  the 
same  woman.  Trifling  as  such  an  incident  may  seem,  it  is  cer- 
tainly worth  as  much  in  evidence  as  a  detailed  account  of  a  con- 
versation that  took  place  a  century  before.  All  things  considered, 
then,  it  seems  as  if  the  weight  of  evidence  was  against  the  tra- 
ditional story. 

But  the  main  argument  against  the  tradition  lies  in  the  charac- 
ter of  the  poems  themselves.  Actually  they  do  not  belong  to  the 
cinquecento  but  to  the  quattrocento;  they  are  examples,  not  of  Peirar- 
chismo,  but  of  Petrarchism.  Even  whatever  degree  of  actuaUty 
may  be  in  the  EUzabethan  sonnet-cycles,  it  is  not  present  here. 
This  is  not  a  scholastic  distinction.  It  means  that  each  poem  is  a 
separate  translation,  or  imitation,  of  an  Itahan  piece,  unrelated  to 
those  that  precede  or  follow.  The  importance  of  this  as  affecting 
the  romantic  tradition  is  evident  at  once.  Clearly  the  lover,  who, 
to  celebrate  the  charms  of  his  ideal,  turns  to  translation  for  inspir- 
ation, is  not  much  in  love.  His  passion  is  of  the  head,jnot  the  heart. 
And  these  poems  are  translations.  Of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty 
pieces  in  the  Egerton  MS.  his  most  recent  editor  thinks  the 
"  source  "  has  been  found  for  seventy-three.  Although  I  question 
many  of  these  sources — such  as  the  Marot  poems  for  example, — the 
conventionality  of  Wyatt's  efforts  is  unquestionable.  It  does  not 
by  any  means  follow  that  the  remaining  tliird  were  original,  that 
the  sources  for  them  may  not  yet  be  found.  The  tale  of  wreckage, 
due  to  finding  Wyatt's  innermost  sentiments  in  a  poem  that  often 
turns  out  to  be  a  mediocre  translation  from  a  foreign  original,  is 
not  yet  told!  The  writers  of  established  reputation  that  Wyatt 
found  in  Italy,  the  authors  of  the  quattrocento,  are  unfortunately 
not  well  known  today.  Of  few  are  there  modern  editions,  the  early 
editions  are  not  accessible,  and  are  known  only  to  the  Italian 
specialist.  But  the  Italian  specialist  is  ignorant  of  Wyatt.  II 
Pistoia  (d.  1505)  thus  lists  the  great  poets:  ^ 

'  Rime  di  Antonio  Cammelli  deito  II  Pistoia,  per  cura  di  A.  Cappelli  e  S.  Ferrari, 
Livoroo,   1884,  51. 


468  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

In  rima  taccia  ognun,  che  '1  pregio  h  dato; 

Dante  e  Petrarca  k  quel  ch'ogn'altro  affroia; 
Timoteo  fa  in  un  anno  un  verso  a  pena; 
arguto  ^  il  Tebaldeo,  ma  poco  oroato; 

Serafin  solo  per  la  lingua  ^  grato; 

Sasso  e  un  fiume  che  argento  e  sterpi  mena; 
Cortese  ha  molto  ingegno  e  poca  vena; 
Vincenzo  ha  un  stil  da  se  solo  apprezzato; 

n  Corregia  alti  versi  oraati  e  asciutti; 
Actio  Partenopeo  culto  et  ignudo: 
Jacomo  un  bel  giardin  con  pochi  fnitti; 

Cosmjco  e  come  lui  scabroso  e  crudo; 
Carraciol,  Cariteo,  son  vani  tutti; 
Bernardo  e  un  granel  d*or  nel  fango  nudo. 

Tanto  ch'alfin  concludo, 
che  nullo  vale,  e  ognun  la  palma  aspetta: 
ma  quel  sa  meglio  dir  che  piu  diletta. 

In  another  sonnet  he  includes  Lorenzo,  Pierino,  Poliziano,  Beni- 
vieni,  Baccio  UgoHno,  II  Lapacino,  II  Franco,  Bellincion,  and  of 
course  Boiardo.  But  these  are  only  the  most  prominent.  As  he 
says, 

II  serebbe  un  fracasso 
s'io  te  volesse  dir  de  tutti  quanti, 
bisognaria  rifame  un  Ognisanti. 

Add  to  these  lists  those  writers  that  published  in  his  lifetime,  and 
those  also  whose  poems  he  may  have  seen  in  manuscript,  and  the 
number  becomes  too  onerous  for  the  scholar  in  English.  And, 
moreover,  the  work  would  be  futile.  Even  were  other  soiu-ces  dis- 
covered, it  would  merely  confirm  the  present  opinion,  for  surely 
enough  has  been  done  to  justify  generalization.  And  finally  it  is 
more  important  for  the  student  of  English  to  study  what  he  did 
with  the  poem  when  he  got  it,  than  to  seek  for  other  originals. 

Wyatt's  poems  then,  may  be  divided  into  his  short  pieces,  his 
satires,  and  his  psalms,  probably  written  for  the  most  part  in  that 
order.  In  his  manuscript  these  short  pieces  are  grouped  according 
to  the  form,  rondeaux,  sonnets,  epigrams,  and  miscellaneous  poems. 
Even  in  the  first  group,  where  purely  French  influence  might  be 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    469 

expected,  the  subject-matter  of  the  whole  of  the  first  rondeau  is 
taken  from  Petrarch,  and  the  first  five  lines  of  the  seventh.^  He 
seems  to  have  had  the  notion  that  in  some  way  the  rondeau  was  a 
possible  equivalent  for  the  Italian  madrigal.  In  the  first  he  makes 
an  attempt  to  render  his  author  in  so  far  as  the  form  allows;  in  the 
second,  the  Italian  merely  gives  him  his  start.  Apparently  the 
transformation  was  unsatisfactory.  Perhaps  for  that  reason  he 
translates  the  sonnets  in  the  sonnet  form.  And  he  translates  them 
incredibly  literally.  Anyone  who  has  ever  written  sonnets  will 
remember  the  difficulty  in  handling  the  form;  anyone  who  has  ever 
tried  to  translate  a  sonnet  will  appreciate  the  tour  de  force  of  the 
following  rendition.  It  is  almost  word  for  word.  In  order  to  illus- 
trate this,  I  shall  break  the  first  sonnet  into  pieces  and  interpose 
the  two  versions.^ 

Cesare,  poi  che'l  traditor  d'Egitto 
Li  fece  il  don  de  I'onorata  testa, 
Celando  Tallegrezza  manifesta, 
Pianse  per  gli  occhi  fuor,  si  come  h  scritto; 

Cesar,  when  that  the  traytor  of  Egipt, 
With  thonorable  hed  did  him  present. 
Covering  his  gladnes,  did  represent 
Playnt  with  his  teres  owteward,  as  it  is  writt: 

Et  Anib4l,  quando  a  Timperio  afflltto 
Vide  farsi  fortuna  si  molesta. 
Rise  fra  gente  lagrimosa  c  raesta. 
Per  isfogare  il  suo  acerbo  despitto. 

And  Hannyball,  eke,  when  fortune  him  shitt 

Clene  from  his  reign,  and  from  all  his  intent 
Laught  to  his  folke,  whom  sorrowe  did  torment. 
His  cruel  dispite  for  to  disgorge  and  qwit. 

E  cost  av^n  che  I'animo  ciascuna 

Sua  passion  sotto  '1  contrario  manlo 
Ricopre  co'la  vista  or  chiara  or  bruna; 

>  In  PorwcII's  Study,  76,-78  the  original  discoverers  of  all  of  Wyatt  are  care- 
fully listed.     To  this  table  the  reader  is  refernHl. 

*  I  am  using  the  Scherillo  text  of  Petrarch,  the  modem  edition  must  carefully 
following  Cod.  3105  Vatican. 


470  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

So  chaunceth  it  oft,  that  every  passion 
The  mind  hideth,  by  color  contrary. 
With  fayned  visage,  now  sad,  now  meiy: 

Perd,  s'alcuna  volta  io  rido  o  canto, 

Fdcciol  perch'l  non  ho  se  non  quest'una 
Via  da  celare  il  mio  angoscioso  pianto. 

Whereby  if  I  laught,  any  tyme  or  season. 
It  is:  for  bicause  I  have  nother  way 
To  cloke  my  care,  but  under  sport  and  play. 

Clearly  there  is  no  question  here  of  vague  influence,  or  even  of 
imitation.  It  is  not  only  translation,  but  surprisingly  accurate 
translation.  But  of  the  thirty-two  sonnets  eighteen  are  practi- 
cally of  this  character.  And  of  the  eighteen,  all  but  one,  the 
Sannazaro  already  discussed,  are  taken  from  Petrarch.  And  there 
are  two  more  where  the  idea  may  have  come  from  an  Italian 
source.  So  far  as  the  sonnet  is  concerned,  there  can  be  no  ques- 
tion that  Wyatt  went  to  Italy. 

Of  these  sonnets  there  are  two  usually  quoted  for  their  autobio- 
graphic value.  The  first  is  a  version  of  the  CCLXIX  Sonnet  of 
Petrarch.  As  this  is  an  extreme  case,  even  at  the  risk  of  in- 
evitable boredom,  it  is  better  to  quote  it  entire. 

Botta  k  Talta  colonna  e'l  verde  lauro 

Che  facean  ombra  al  mio  stanco  pensero; 

Perduto  ho  quel  che  ritrovar  non  spero 

Dal  borea  a  I'autro,  o  dal  mar  indo  al  mauro. 

The  piller  pearishd  is  whearto  I  lent: 

The  strongest  staye  of  myne  unquyet  mjmde; 

The  lyke  of  it  no  man  agayne  can  fynde, 

Ffrom  East  to  West,  still  seking  thoughe  he  went. 

Tolto  m'hai,  Morte,  il  mio  doppio  tesauro 
Che  mi  fea  viver  lieto  e  gire  altero; 
E  ristorar  nol  pd  terra  nh  impero, 
N6  gemma  oriental,  n6  forza  d'auro. 

To  myne  unhappe!  for  happe  away  hath  rent 
Of  all  my  joye,  the  verye  bark  and  rynde; 
And  I  (alas)  by  chaunce  am  thus  assynde 
Dearlye  to  moorne  till  death  do  it  relent. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    471 

Ma  se  consentimento  h  di  destino 

Che  posso  io  piii  se  no'aver  I'alma  trista, 
Umidi  gli  occhi  sempre  e'l  viso  chino? 

But  syns  that  thus  it  is  by  destenye. 

What  can  I  more  but  have  a  wofuU  hart. 
My  penne  in  playnt,  my  voyce  in  wofull  crye. 

Oh  nostra  vita  ch'e  si  bella  in  vista, 

Com'perde  agevolmente  in  un  matino 

Quel  che'n  molti  anni  a  gran  pena  s'acquista! 

My  mynde  in  woe,  my  bodye  full  of  smart 
And  I  my  self,  my  self  alwayes  to  hate 
Till  dreadfull  death,  do  ease  my  dolefull  state. 

There  is  practically  no  doubt  that  the  Petrarchan  sonnet  waa 
written  on  the  events  of  1348,  when  the  Cardinal  Giovanni  Col- 
onna  died,  and  also  Laura.  The  first  line,  therefore,  opens  with  a 
pun.  There  is  no  doubt,  also,  that  Wyatt  knew  this,  since  all  the 
early  commentators  carefully  explain  the  allusions.  It  will  be 
noticed  that  this  is  not  an  exact  translation,  that  all  allusions  to 
the  laurel  and  the  double  treasure  are  omitted,  and  the  last  half 
of  the  sextet  differs  radically.  The  question  then  arises  whether 
this  sonnet  was  not  written  in  commemoration  of  the  fall  of  Crom- 
well, July  28,  1540.  This  is  almost  invariably  answered  in  the 
affirmative.  The  general  opinion  may  be  illustrated  by  the  note 
appended  by  Miss  Foxwell: 

LI.  12-14  are  original,  and  though  less  poetical  than  Petrarch's  conclusion  ex- 
press Wiat's  sincere  feeling,  and  show  also  that  he  had  a  definite  purpose  in  writ- 
ing this  Sonnet.  It  is  evidently  late,  and  the  sentiment  expressed  fits  in  with 
Cromwell's  fall  in  1540. 

Since  he  had  in  no  way  been  responsible  for  Cromwell's  fate,  it  is 
hard  to  understand  why  he  should  hate  himself;  since  Cromwell 
had  been  his  protector,  "whose  minion  he  was,"  there  was  every 
reason  for  anxiety  concerning  his  own  future  and  his  own  safety. 
Under  the  circumstances  if  all  that  he  could  do  was  the  frigid  sonnet 
with  its  lame  and  impotent  conclusion, — its  perishing  pillars  and 
the  bark  and  rind  of  joy — one  cannot  have  a  high  estimation  of  his 
poetic  ability.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  it  be  considered  a  prentice 
piece, — that  in  the  sextet,  for  instance,  he  was  caught  by  the  rime 


472  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

"destiny"  and  did  the  best  he  could, — its  presumable  early  date 
would  excuse  its  lack  of  either  art  or  feeling.  Much  the  same  line 
of  reasoning  appUes  to  the  other,  Sonnet  3 : 

Who  so  list  to  hount:  I  know  where  is  an  hynde. 

But,  as  for  me:  helas,  I  may  no  more. 

The  vayne  travail  hath  werid  me  so  sore, 

I  ame  of  theim,  that  farthest  cometh  behinde 
Yet,  may  I  by  no  means,  my  weried  mynde 

Drawe  from  the  Der;  but  as  she  fleeth  afore 

Faynting  I  folowe.     I  leve  of  therefore: 

Sins  in  a  nett  I  seke  to  hold  the  wynde. 
Who  list  her  hount:  I  put  him  oute  of  dowbte: 

As  well  as  I:  may  spend  his  tyme  in  vain. 

And  graven  with  Diamonds  in  letters  plain: 
There  is  written,  her  faier  neck  rounde  abowte: 

Noli  me  tangere  for  Caesars  I  ame 

And  wylde  for  to  hold:  though  I  seme  tame. 

To  the  modern  reader  the  allegory  seems  clear;  the  last  two  lines 
can  refer  only  to  Anne  Boleyn  and  the  King.  But,  as  Nott  pointed 
out  a  hundred  years  ago  Wyatt's  sonnet  is  only  a  re-working  of  a 
sonnet  by  Petrarch.^  Allegorizing  the  lady  as  a  milk-white  hind 
was  usual,  ^  and  the  phrase  Noli  me  tangere  quia  Caesaris  sum  was  a 
proverb.  Romanello,  also,  has  a  sonnet  in  which,  like  Wyatt's,  both 
ideas  are  combined.^  And  the  interpretation  of  the  Petrarch  sonnet 
by  Wyatt's  Italian  contemporaries  is  only  that  Laura  is  married.^ 
But  if  that  be  the  idea  Wyatt  is  trying  to  convey,  it  surely  would 
not  apply  to  Anne,  unless  it  were  written  after  1532.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  the  Caesaris  sum  refers  only  to  the  Julian  laws  of  adultery, 
as  the  Italian  commentators  aver,  the  Wyatt  may  have  been 
written  to  any  married  woman  at  any  time,  or  it  may  again  be 
merely  an  effort  at  translation.  The  safer  position,  surely,  is  to 
assume  in  Wyatt's  work  no  autobiographical  value  until  that  value 
is  proved. 

But  not  only  are  Wyatt's  sonnets  for  the  most  part  translations, 
imitations  and  adaptations  of  Petrarch,  those  chosen  have  proven 

1  Sonnet  CXC. 

*Cf.  Boccaccio's  Decamerone  IV,  6. 

'  Romanello's  Sonnets  are  published  together  with  La  Bella  Mono  of  Giusto 
de'Conti,  ed.  by  Mazzuche!!i,  Vcror.a,  1753. 
*  Petrarca,  ed.  Leonardo,  1533. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    473 

the  least  permanent  in  the  Rime.  Part  of  Petrarch's  inheritance 
from  the  Provengal  troubadours  was  the  purely  intellectual  type 
of  poem  wherein  a  metaphor  is  first  selected  and  then  pursued  to 
its  last  ramification.  For  this  no  poetic  feeling  is  required;  the 
brain  is  scourged  to  think  out  the  analogies.  And  it  is  this  type 
that  Wyatt  preferred.  This  was  pointed  out,  long  ago,  by  Warton, 
in  a  passage  that  has  never  been  bettered.^ 

It  was  from  the  capricious  and  over-strained  invention  of  the  Italian  poets, 
that  Wyat  was  taught  to  torture  the  passion  of  love  by  prolix  and  intricate  com- 
parisons, and  unnatural  allusions.  At  one  time  his  love  is  a  galley  steered  by 
cruelty  through  stormy  seas  and  dangerous  rocks;  the  sails  torn  by  the  blast  of 
tempestuous  sighs,  and  the  cordage  consumed  by  incessant  showers  of  tears:  a 
cloud  of  grief  envelopes  the  stars,  reason  is  drowned,  and  the  haven  is  at  a  distance. 
At  another,  it  is  a  Spring  trickling  from  the  summit  of  the  Alps,  which  gathering 
force  in  its  fall,  at  length  overflows  all  the  plain  beneath.  Sometimes  it  is  a 
gun,  which  being  overcharged,  expands  the  flame  within  itself,  and  bursts  in 
pieces.  Sometimes  it  is  like  a  prodigious  mountain,  which  is  perpetually  weep- 
ing in  copious  fountains,  and  sending  forth  sighs  from  its  forests;  which  bears 
more  leaves  than  fruits;  which  breeds  wild-beasts,  the  proper  emblems  of  rage, 
and  harbours  birds  that  are  always  singing.  In  another  of  his  sonnets,  he  says, 
that  all  nature  sympathises  with  his  passion.  The  woods  resound  his  elegies, 
the  rivers  stop  their  course  to  hear  him  complain,  and  the  grass  weeps  in  dew. 
These  thoughts  are  common  and  fantastic. 

Of  course  it  is  at  once  obvious  that  such  poems  are  more  easily 
imitated.  When  once  the  original  conception, — such  as  the  lover, 
as  hunter,  chasing  the  loved  one,  as  deer,  who  is  unapproachable 
because  another's, — is  adopted,  language  is  no  bar;  like  a  geomet- 
rical problem  it  may  be  expressed  as  easily  in  English  as  in  Italian, 
and  it  cannot  be  said  to  have  lost  in  the  transference.  Owing  to 
the  difficulty  of  the  sonnet  form  certain  modifications  are  almost 
inevitable,  but  such  modifications  neither  detract  from  the  p)oem, 
nor  add  to  the  originality  of  the  poet.  Such  translation  is  a  game 
of  solitaire,  played  primarily  for  amusement,  a  contest  between 
the  writer  and  the  language.  For  such  a  purpose  poems  expressing 
delicate  shades  of  poetic  feeling  are  too  difficult;  they  defy  trans- 
lation. Perforce  the  writer  must  choose  such  pieces  as  can  be  trans- 
ferred from  one  language  to  another.  And  the  ornamentation  will 
consist  in  balance  and  antithesis, 

» Warton,  ed.  1840,  3,  45-iO.  I  prefer  this  to  the  1871  edition  by  Hazlitt.  since 
in  that  the  method  of  editing  seems  curiously  eclectic. 


474  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Pace  non  trovo,  e  noa  ho  da  far  guerra 
I  fynde  no  peace  and  all  my  warr  is  done. 

Poetry  of  this  sort  abounds  in  the  quattrocento  writers,  each 
of  whom,  the  center  of  his  own  particular  little  circle,  adapted 
Petrarch  to  his  own  particular  needs.  They  followed  him,  to  be 
sure,  but  at  a  respectful  distance.  As  a  group  they  impress  the 
reader  as  a  serious  set  of  men  elaborately  grinding  out  complicated 
conceits.  Yet  to  speak  of  them  as  a  group  is  a  mistake;  there  was 
little  communication  between  them.  The  similar  literary  charac- 
teristics are  due  to  similar  literary  demands  in  the  various  courts, 
demands  for  short  comphmentary  poems,  poems  to  be  set  to  music, 
light  love  lyrics,  etc.,  etc.  And  as  Petrarch's  work  offers  models 
for  all  such  composition,  naturally  they  all  accepted  him  as  master. 
Probably  the  most  popular  of  these  writers  was  Serafino  De'Cimi- 
nelli,  called  from  his  birthplace  Aquila,  Aquilano.^  During  his 
short  life  (1466-1500),  in  contrast  to  most  of  the  other  writers,  he 
stayed  for  some  time  at  each  of  the  various  courts,  Naples,  Rome, 
Ferrara,  Mantua,  Milan,  Venice, — ^almost  all  the  literary  centers, 
in  fact,  with  the  exception  of  Florence.  Consequently  these  pere- 
grinations gave  him  a  vogue  the  length  and  breadth  of  Italy.  Dur- 
ing his  life  he  was  too  much  occupied  in  composition  to  publish;^ 
but  immediately  after  his  death,  beginning  with  1502,  the  press 
poured  forth  edition  after  edition,  so  that  before  Wyatt's  arrival 
in  Italy  twenty-one  editions  had  already  appeared.  I  do  not  think 
it  is  difficult  to  understand  the  cause  of  his  popularity.  He  has  a 
distinct  vein  of  sweetness  and  a  lyric  quality  that  make  some  of 
his  verses  charming.  It  is  quite  comprehensible,  to  a  certain  de- 
gree, what  his  friend  Vicentio  Calmeta  ^  says  of  him: 

^  The  early  editions  always  call  him  Seraphino;  in  modem  indices  he  is  listed 
as  Aquilano;  and  sometimes  he  appears  as  De'Ciminelli.  It  may  save  confusion 
if  it  be  realized  that  these  are  all  one  and  the  same  poet. 

*  The  only  modem  edition  is  Le  Rime  di  Serafino  De'Ciminelli  doll'  Aquila  by 
Marion  Menghini,  Collezione  di  Opere  Inedite  o  Rare,  Bologna,  1896.  Unfor- 
tunately only  the  first  volume,  containing  the  sonnets,  eclogues  and  epistles, 
appeared.  Of  the  early  editions  I  have  used  the  1608, 1539  (not  listed  in  Vaganey), 
1540  and  1550. 

*  This  life  was  published  in  1504  in  a  collection  celebrating  his  praises.  It 
is  fortunately,  given  in  full  by  Menghini,  as  the  lives  prefixed  to  the  early  editions 
are  merely  conde  nsations  of  this,  and  refer  the  reader  to  it. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    475 

Nd  redtare  de'soi  poemi  era  tanto  ardente  e  con  tanto  ^uditio  le  parole  cod 
la  musica  consertava  che  Tanimo  de  li  asscoltanti  o  dotti,  o  mediocri,  o  plebei, 
o  donne  equalmente  commoveva. 

He  sang,  quite  literally  sang,  of  the  passing  of  youth  and  the  flight 
of  time,  of  lady's  love  and  knight's  despair, — most  musical,  most 
melancholy. 

The  criticism  of  his  work  is  given  acutely  by  II  Pistoia  in  the  son- 
net just  quoted: 

Serafin  solo  per  la  lingua  k  grate. 

Unfortunately  it  is  true,  that  Serafino  pleases  by  the  words  alone, 
that  there  is  no  thought  behind  them.  His  love  poems  sound 
hollow,  because  they  are  empty.  Fortunately  this  is  not  induc- 
tive; we  are  told  so.    Calmeta  naively  remarks: 

Non  ebbe  in  soi  poemI  alcimo  particolare  amore  per  oggietto,  perch£  in  ogni 
loco  dove  se  trovava  faceva  pid  presto  innamoramento  che  pigliare  casa  a  pisone. 

Nor  does  the  reader  feel  this  limited  only  to  his  love  poems.  Be- 
hind all  the  words  there  seems  so  little  feeling.  There  is  such  a 
small  quantity  of  thought  to  such  a  deal  of  words.  They  need  the 
music  to  make  us  forget  how  little  is  said,  to  justify  the  constant 
repetition,  to  eke  out  the  sense  by  the  sound. 

When  Serafino's  immense  popularity  is  considered,  it  was  in- 
evitable that  Wyatt  should  imitate  him.  Not  only  were  the 
sonnets  set  to  music,  but  from  Chariteo  (according  to  Calmeta) 
he  learned  the  strambotto,  an  eight  lined  verse  in  otiava  rima, — 
the  form  in  which  he  achieved  his  greatest  celebrity.  These  differ 
from  the  sonnet  in  that  the  restricted  form  allows  even  less  space 
for  the  development  of  the  idea,  and  the  termination  in  a  couplet 
necessarily  gives  an  epigrammatic  close.  In  some  cases  Wyatt 
translates  very  carefully :  ^ 

Oogni  pungente  e  venenosa  spina 
ae  vede  a  qualche  tem{>o  esser  fiorita, 
crudel  veneno  posto  in  medicina 
tal  uolta  toma  Ihom  da  morte  uita 

'The  text  is  from  the  1508.  Wyatt's  indebtedness  has  been  largely  studied 
by  Koeppel.  The  same  poem,  however,  is  assigned  by  Carducci  to  Poliziano 
(Rime  1912.  606). 


476  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

d  foco  che  ogni  cosa  arde  e  rulna 
spesso  resana  vna  mortal  ferita 
coai  spero  el  mio  mal  me  sia  salute 
chogni  cosa  che  noce  ha  pur  uirtute. 

Venemus  themes  that  ar  so  sharp  and  kene, 
Sometyme  ber  flowers  fayre  and  fresh  of  hue: 
Poyson  oflFtyme  is  put  in  medecene. 
And  causith  helth  in  man  for  to  renue; 
Ffire  that  purgith  allthing  that  is  unclene. 
May  hele  and  hurt:  and  if  thes  bene  true, 
I  trust  somtyme  my  harme  may  be  my  helth: 
Syns  evry  wo  is  joynid  with  some  welth. 

In  other  cases  only  the  idea,  or  some  significant  phrases,  are  taken. 
Wyatt's  "  Epigrams  "  show  the  country  of  their  birth  by  both  con- 
tent and  form.  As  has  been  said  before,  of  the  thirty-one  epigrams 
all  but  six  are  in  the  ottava  rima.  It  may  be  granted  at  once  that 
all  these  have  not  been  traced  to  their  sources  and  that  many  so- 
called  sources  are  extremely  doubtful,  yet  enough  that  can  be 
positively  shown  to  be  translation  has  been  found  to  justify  the 
generalization  that  here  also  Wyatt's  main  function  was  to  intro- 
duce Italian  methods  to  sixteenth  century  England. 

If  we  may  for  the  moment  postpone  the  discussion  of  the  miscel- 
laneous group  and  turn  at  once  to  the  Satires,  a  new  figure  is  intro- 
duced upon  the  scene  in  the  person  of  Luigi  Alamanni.^  In  both 
life  and  character  he  forms  a  striking  contrast  to  the  graceful  super- 
ficial Serafino.  Born  of  a  noble  Florentine  family,  he  was  edu- 
cated in  the  refinements  of  the  time,  surrounded  by  classic  monu- 
ments of  both  art  and  letters.  In  particular  he  belonged  to  the 
group  meeting  at  the  home  of  Bernardo  Rucellai,  or  rather  in  the 
shade  of  the  Orti  Oricellari, — a  group  of  which  Macchiavelli  was  a 
member  and  Trissino  an  honored  guest, — ^in  which  the  literary 
discussions  recalled  memories  of  the  earHer  brilliant  circle  of  Lo- 
renzo. The  contrast  between  these  two  Hterary  circles  shows  the 
development  of  the  Renaissance  spirit.  Whereas  the  first  was  pri- 
marily interested  in  classic  culture  per  se,  Alamanni  and  his  friends 
were  primarily  interested  in  bringing  Italian  culture  to  the  classic 
levels.  This  ideal  assumed  suddenly  a  practical  shape  when  in  1522, 

^Cf.  Luigi  Alamanni,  par  Henri  Hauvette,  Paris,  1903.  To  M.  Hauvette  I 
am  indebted  for  all  the  facts  of  the  hfe. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    477 

following  the  examples  of  Harmodus  and  Aristogiton,  they  en- 
tered the  plot  to  restore  the  liberties  of  Florence  by  the  assassina- 
tion of  Giulio  de'Medici.  Unhappily  the  Cardinal,  when  the  plot 
was  betrayed  to  him,  was  unable  to  appreciate  the  beauty  of  classi- 
cal precedent,  and  Alamanni  escaped  into  exile  with  a  price  upon 
his  head.  Until  the  middle  of  1527  he  Uved  a  life  of  enforced  lei- 
sure, indefinite  waiting,  and  postponed  hopes.  In  the  spring  of 
1527  he  was  at  Lyons,  the  French  gate  to  Italy,  and  in  all  proba- 
bility he  was  there,  when  Sir  John  Russell,  with  Wyatt  in  his  train, 
passed  through.  And  apparently  by  that  time  he  had  written  his 
satires,  which  were  first  published  in  his  Opere  Toscane  1532-1533. 
On  the  expulsion  of  the  Medici  in  1527  he  returned  to  Florence, 
but  shortly,  on  their  return,  he  is  again  driven  into  life-long  exile 
and  becomes  a  pensioner  of  the  French  Court. 

The  events  of  this  varied  and  exciting  life  find  their  poetical  ex- 
pression in  poems  that  are  always  dignified,  if  somewhat  p)onder- 
ous.  Serafino  was  predominantly  a  poet,  but  a  poet  without  much 
to  say;  Alamanni  has  no  lack  of  subject  matter,  but  not  very  much 
poetical  afflatus.  His  early  training  had  taught  him  the  value  of 
classical  restraint,  and  restraint  of  any  kind  was  the  last  lesson 
he  needed  to  learn.  He  takes  himself  so  seriously!  As  he  writes, 
one  feels  him  wondering  how  the  Orti  Oricellari  will  like  this  verse, 
and  how  he  may  justify  it.  The  inevitable  result  is  negative;  the 
absence  of  faults  is  balanced  by  an  absence  of  virtues, — the  type 
of  work  so  distressing  to  critics,  wherein  all  rules  are  carefully 
preserved,  no  blemishes  to  be  condemned,  and  yet  without  the 
impression  of  the  personality  to  vitalize  it.  Of  all  forms  of  writ- 
ing where  such  a  negative  becomes  a  positive,  the  chief  is  surely 
the  verse-letter.  Here  a  minor  writer  may  be  excellent  merely 
by  being  himself.  Consequently  Italian  literature  of  the  period 
is  flooded  by  such  compositions,  call  them  satires,  letters,  capitoli, 
what  you  will,  wherein  the  end  sought  is  amusement.  The  one 
thing  necessary  is  lightness  of  touch.  Unhappily  that  is  the  quaU- 
fication  that  Alamanni  did  not  possess.  His  satires  lack  both 
the  grace  of  Horace,  and  the  sting  of  Juvenal.  They  are  perfectly 
good  and  perfectly  commonplace. 

Also  unhappily  it  is  Alamanni  that  Wyatt  chose  for  his  model 
in  satire.  Again  the  simpler  method  will  be  that  of  quotation.^ 
'  The  text  is  taken  from  the  1542  edition  of  the  Opere  Totoome.     Satire  X. 


478  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Questo  fa  che'l  mio  regnio,  e'l  mio  thesoro 

Son  gli'nchiostri  &  le  carte,  &  piu  ch'altroue 
Hoggi  in  Prouenza  uolentier  dimoro. 

Qui  non  ho  alcun,  che  mi  domandi  doue 

Mi  stia,  ne  uada,  &  non  mi  sforza  alcimo 
A  gir  pe'l  mondo  quando  agghiaccia  &  pioue. 

Quando  e'gli  h'l  ciel  seren,  quando  e  gli  ^  bruno 
Son  quel  medesmo,  &  non  mi  prendo  affanno^ 
Colmo  di  pace,  &  di  timor  digiuno. 

Non  sono  in  Francia  d  sentir  beffe  &  danno 
S'io  non  conoscp  i  uin,  s'io  non  so  bene 
Qual  uiuanda  e  miglior  di  tutto  I'anno, 

Non  nella  Hispagnia  oue  studiar  conuiene 
Piu  che  nell'esser  poi  nel  ben  parere, 
Oue  frode,  &  menzognia  il  seggio  tiene, 

Non  in  Germania  oue'I  mangiare  e'l  bere 

M'habbia  d  tor  I'intelletto,  &  darlo  in  preda 
AI  senso,  in  guisa  di  seluagge  fere . 

Non  sono  in  Roma,  oue  chi'n  Christo  creda, 
Et  non  sappia  falsar,  ne  far  ueneni 
Conuien  ch'd  ha  casa  sospirando  rieda. 

Sono  in  Prouenza.  .  .  . 

This  maketh  me  at  home  to  hounte  and  to  hawke. 

And  in  fowle  weder  at  my  booke  to  sitt; 
In  frost  and  snowe  then  with  my  bow  to  stawke; 

No  man  doeth  mark  where  so  I  ride  or  goo; 

In  lusty  lees  at  libertie  I  walke; 
And  of  these  newes  I  fele  nor  wele  nor  woo, 

Sauf  that  a  clogg  doeth  hang  yet  at  my  hele. 

No  force  for  that;  for  it  is  ordered  so. 
That  I  may  lepe  boeth  hedge  and  dike  full  well. 

I  ame  not  now  in  Ffraunce  to  judge  the  wyne 

With  saflfry  sauce  the  delicates  to  fele. 
Nor  yet  in  Spaigne  where  oon  must  him  inclyne 

Rather  then  to  be  outewerdly  to  seme; 

I  meddill  not  with  wittes  than  be  so  fyne. 
Nor  Fflaunders  chiere  letteth  not  my  sight  to  deme 

Of  black  and  white,  nor  taketh  my  wit  awaye 

With  bestlynes;  they  beestes  do  so  esteme. 
Nor  I  ame  not  where  Christe  is  geven  in  pray 

For  mony,  poison  and  traison  at  Rome, — 

A  commime  practise  used  nyght  and  daie. 
But  here  I  ame  in  Kent  and  Christendome,  .  .  . 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    479 

This  is  a  fair  illustration  of  Wyatt's  procedure.  In  the  first  place 
he  keeps  the  meter  exactly.^  The  difficulty  of  the  terza  rima  in 
English,  owing  to  the  scarcity  of  riming  words,  is  of  course  due 
to  the  triple  rime.  In  Wyatt's  attempt  to  render  the  meter,  the 
sense  of  the  original  is  apt  to  be  lost,  the  value  of  the  phrase  usually 
goes,  and  sometimes  his  lines  make  no  sense  at  all.  Inevitably 
with  so  difficult  a  rime-scheme  there  is  dilution.  Part  of  the  di- 
lution may  be  due  to  a  desire  to  adapt  the  original  to  his  own  in- 
dividual conditions.    Thus  it  begins, 

Myn  owne  John  Poynz, 

and  runs  in  occasionally  local  allusions,  such  as  that  to  Kent  in 
the  passage  quoted.  Of  these  the  most  interesting  is  the  sub- 
stitution for  classical  reference  in  the  two  lines. 

Praise  Syr  Thopias  for  a  nobyll  tale. 

And  skome  the  story  that  the  knyght  told.  .  . 

While  such  deception  is  not  in  accordance  with  modern  ethics,  in 
the  sixteenth  century  property  rights  in  poems  were  not  regarded. 
Such  additions  were  made  for  a  personal  application,  or,  as  in  the 
case  of  Barclay,  for  a  moral  purpose.  The  difficulty  here  is  to 
distinguish  between  additional  matter  put  in  for  the  sake  of  the 
meter  and  that  put  in  to  give  a  more  intimate  tone.  This  diffi- 
culty is  enhanced  by  the  fact  that  the  Alamanni  original  is  insin- 
cere; written  at  a  time  when  he  was  moving  heaven  and  earth  to 
please  Francis  V%  platitudes  on  the  wretchedness  of  court  life 
strongly  suggest  the  fable  of  the  fox  and  the  grapes.  And  it  can- 
not be  said  that  the  facts  of  Wyatt's  life  as  we  know  them  indicate 
that  he  lived  on  a  superior  plane,  untouched  by  the  baser  motives 
of  the  common  courtier.  His  intimacy  with  Sir  Francis  Bryan  ' 
scarcely  argues  for  a  lonely  moral  isolation.    The  two  other  satires 

iSaintsbury  (Hut.  of  Prosody,  1,  811)  as  quoted  by  Miss  FoxwcU  (Study.  89) 
comments:  "the  best  name  for  the  metre  of  the  remarkable  poems  ...  is  prob- 
ably interlaced  heroic  couplets".  .  In  a  note  he  adds:  "or  they  may  be  classed 
as  simply  terza  rima,  unskillfully  written,  but  VVyatt  has  not  got  the  tfrza  movement 
at  all,  indeed  quatrains  suggest  themselves  and  quintets  and  almost  evcrj'thing." 
This  remarkable  pronouncement  must  be  due  to  a  limiting  of  the  name  trrza  rima 
to  the  Dantesque  manner;  but  Wyatt's  model  is  the  terca  rima  of  the  cinque- 
cento! 

» Cf .  877-S80. 


480  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

follow  Horace,  but  it  must  be  granted  that  they  follow  at  a  re- 
spectful distance, — ^at  such  a  distance  that  one  is  tempted  to 
assume  an  unknown  intermediary,  which  more  sno  Wyatt  has 
adapted.^  But  whatever  may  have  been  the  procedure,  these 
satires  form  an  instructive  contrast  to  the  first  three  of  Bar- 
clay.^ The  vigour  of  the  early  writer,  due  to  his  use  of  the  con- 
crete instance,  has  been  lost  in  elegant  generality.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  somewhat  amorphous  couplets  of  Barclay  have  been 
replaced  by  the  elaborate  terza  rima.  What  has  been  lost  in 
force  has  been  gained  in  form. 

Petrarch,  Serafino,  and  Alamanni, — for,  although  Wyatt  imitates 
others  occasionally,  these  are  his  chief  sources, — form  a  curious 
group  without  much  in  common;  the  final  touch  is  to  find  that  he  has 
copied  his  version  of  the  Penitential  Psalms  from  Pietro  Aretino.' 
Aretino  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  figures  of  the  Italian  Re- 
naissance, because  in  the  midst  of  sham  and  convention  he  dared 
to  be  himself.  Preeminently  he  is  a  realist.  Son  of  a  shoemaker, 
hanger-on  of  the  Papal  Court,  follower  of  Giovanni  de  la  Banda 
Nera,  soldier  of  fortune  at  Venice,  at  no  period  of  his  active  life 
did  he  have  leisure  to  learn  from  books.  The  world  was  his  school. 
Although  some  of  his  work — and  of  course  it  is  that  that  is  the  best 
known  and  most  often  associated  with  his  name! — is  outside  the 
pale  of  polite  conversation,  the  vitality  of  his  writing,  which  gave 
him  honor  and  riches  in  his  own  day,  has  remained.^  After 
1530,  the  year  in  which  the  Doge  finally  succeeded  in  obtaining 
his  pardon  from  the  Pope,  Aretino  began  composing  religious  works 
from  motives  of  policy.  The  contrast  between  his  life  of  open,  un- 
ashamed, boastful  licentiousness  and  these  books  of  a  sickly,  pious 
sentimentalism  is  too  extreme;  it  combines  the  flaunting  of  vice  and 

^  In  the  Third  Satire,  which  contains  the  fable  of  the  town  mouse  and  the  coun- 
try visitor,  curiously  enough  the  latter  mouse  is  apparently  French.  It  looks 
very  much  as  though  Wyatt  had  reversed  the  process  used  in  the  rondeauz  and 
put  French  content  into  an  Italian  form. 

*  Lengthy  illustrations  are  given  from  Barclay's  satires,  pp.  238-242. 

*  Miss  Forwell  attributes  this  discovery  to  Mr.  Arundell  Esdaile  of  the  British 
Museum. 

*  There  is  no  modem  edition  of  the  works  of  Aretino  and  there  is  no  writer 
more  misimderstood.  For  a  mass  of  misinformation  the  reader  is  referred  to  the 
article  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica.  For  a  clear  and  brief  summary  of  his  lit- 
erary position,  cf.  Arturo  Graf,  Attraverso  il  Cinquecento. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    481 

the  smirking  of  hypocrisy.  The  modem  reader,  as  he  turns  the 
pages  of  the  Humanitd  di  Crisio,  is  too  conscious  of  the  painted 
faces  of  the  harlots  grinning  over  his  shoulder,  not  to  experience  a 
sensation  of  almost  physical  repugnance.  The  literary  manner 
is  no  more  pleasing.  It  consists  in  taking  the  scriptural  narrative, 
or  the  life  of  a  saint,  and  retelling  it  with  incredible  dilution.  In 
1534,  in  this  way  he  produced  /  sette  Salmi  de  la  penitentia  di  David, 
a  wordy  prose  version  of  the  Psalms,  joined  together  by  prologues 
which  give  a  stage  setting.  This  much  may  be  said  in  behalf  of 
this  production.  Any  rendition  of  the  Bible  into  the  \'nlgar  tongue, 
especially  if  it  were  imcontaminated  by  Lutheranism,  was  a  nov- 
elty, and  the  Psalms  themselves  are  so  fine  that  even  Aretino  can- 
not completely  ruin  them.  As  the  public  is  apt  to  confuse  art  and 
morality,  perhaps  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  book  proved  popular; 
there  were  three  Italian  editions  and  one  French  translation  before 
Wyatt's  death. ^  Evidently  Wyatt  is  to  be  numbered  among  the 
admirers  of  this  curious  production.  He  copies  the  framework  of 
the  prologues,  translates  some  of  the  prologues,  and  parts  of  the 
Psalms  themselves.  As  in  the  case  of  his  version  of  Alamanni's 
satire,  he  makes  no  pretence  at  representing  his  author  faithfully, 
and,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  it  is  the  early  part  of  the  work  that 
shows  the  most  indebtedness.  Later  he  follows  the  Vulgate.^  In 
any  case,  his  main  indebtedness  to  Aretino  lies  in  his  conceiving 
the  work  from  a  standpoint  purely  literary.  It  is  this  that  differ- 
entiates his  production  from  the  Psalms  of  Coverdale,  or  Sternhold, 
or  Clement  Marot.  Those  were  written  to  be  sung.  As  they  were 
sung,  the  tendency  was  to  replace  the  authorized  hymns  of  the 
Church  by  them.  Moreover,  this  was  the  intention  of  the  hereti- 
cal authors.    But  there  is  no  such  purpose  as  this  in  Wyatt.    His 

'  In  1741  Mazzuchelli  thus  comments:  Di  tutte  I'Opere  in  prosa  che  acriase 
rAretino,  qucsta  sopra  i  Salmi  si  pud  riputar  la  migliore,  non  gi4  pcrche  diaai  da 
noi  fede  a  quel  Predicator  Bolognese  riferito  dallo  stesso  Aretino,  il  quale  pre- 
dicando  in  Venezia,  chi  vuol  vcdere,  disse,  in  la  peniimtia  David,  leggali,  e  tedraUo; 
ma  per  testimonio  anche  del  Crescimbeni,  il  quale  le  chiama  degni  (Tesser  Utii,  e 
ammirati.      La  Vila  di  Pietro  Aretino,  Padova,  1741,  218. 

*  Mias  Foxwell  tries  to  show  that  he  is  indebted  to  the  Psalter  of  15S0,  because 
be  probably  composed  them  while  travelling  and  the  Great  Bible  would  have  iKH'n 
cumbersome.  Apparently  she  forgets  that  Wyatt  wjis  brought  up  on  the  \'ul- 
gate.  Moreover  the  Italian  notiulo,  the  nycticozax  of  the  Vidgate,  while  it  doca 
mean  "bat"  also  means  owl.     Wyatt's  oiU,  therefore,  docs  not  signify  anything. 


482  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Psalms  were  written  to  be  read.  The  composition  is  a  single  unit, 
where  the  prologues  give  the  scenery  for  the  dramatic  monologues. 
It  is  dramatic,  therefore,  and  not  lyric,  in  conception.  This  is  also 
shown  by  the  fact  that  whereas  the  prologues  are  in  the  ottava 
rima,  a  lyric  measure,  the  psalms  themselves  are  in  the  terza  rima, 
a  purely  narrative  measure. 

To  discuss  the  Psalms  from  this  literary  point  of  view  is 
almost  impossible  for  the  modern  English  reader.  The  su- 
perbly beautiful  phrasing  of  the  Authorized  Version  is  so 
familiar  that  the  addition  of  rime  seems  cheap  and  the  dilution 
impertinent.  But  this  necessarily  renders  him  unfair  to  Wyatt, 
for  the  majority  of  the  readers  of  his  age  thought  of  the  Psalms  in 
terms  of  Latin.  Any  English  version  was  still  tentative.  Yet  it 
must  be  granted  that  the  meter  chosen  was  unfortunate.  Terza 
rima  is  so  diflBcult  in  English  that  he  is  forced  to  expand  the  simple 
lines  of  the  Vulgate.  Although  naturally  the  work  is  better  in 
proportion  as  there  is  less  Aretino  and  more  Vulgate,  even  at  the 
best  it  seems  diffuse.  For  example,  the  two  lines  of  the  Fiftieth 
Psalm  (the  Fifty-first  in  English)  read : 

Asperges  me  hyssopo,  et  mundabor; 

lavabis  me,  et  super  nivem  dealbabor. 

Wyatt's  version  runs: 

And  as  the  Juyz  to  hele  the  liepre  sore. 

With  hysope  dense, — clense  me,  and  I  ame  clene; 
Thou  shalt  me  wash,  and  more  then  snow  therfore 

I  shall  be  whight, — how  foule  my  faut  have  bene. 

Surely  no  one  can  maintain  that  Wyatt  has  improved  the  Author- 
ized Version: 

Purge  me  with  hyssop,  and  I  shall  be  clean;  wash  me,  and  I  shall  be  whiter 
than  snow. 

The  meter  has  forced  him,  not  only  to  unnecessary  additions,  but 
also  to  an  awkward  inverted  order.  And  Aretino  is  not  responsible 
here. 

Among  the  Italian  authors  Wyatt  not  only  chose  poor  mod- 
els, but  he  also  selected  poor  examples  of  their  work.^    The  ques- 

*  Miss  Foxwell  {The  Poems,  2,  Introduction,  vi),  tells  us:  "At  Venice,  amongst 
other  great  statesmen,  he  met  Navagero  and  Baldassaro  Castiglione,  the  two 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    483 

tion  naturally  arises,  why  were  these  particular  poems  chosen, 
when  the  best  of  the  cinquecento  was  open  to  him.  The  answer 
to  this  question  is  clear  from  the  previous  analysis.  The  one  char- 
acteristic common  to  all  of  Wyatt's  translations  is  that  the  appeal 
in  them  is  to  the  mind,  rather  than  to  the  heart.  The  emotional 
sonnets  of  Petrarch  are  passed  by  in  favor  of  those  in  which  a  con- 
ceit is  carefully  worked  out;  the  musical  strains  of  Serafino  are  ig- 
nored to  translate  an  antithesis;  the  moralization  of  Alamanni  and 
the  sentimentality  of  Aretino  are  chosen  for  intellectual  reasons. 
Each  work,  whether  sonnet  or  strambotto,  whether  psalm  or  satire, 
is  in  itself  a  clearly  defined  unit.  The  strambotto  is  not  an  undevel- 
oped sonnet,  but,  from  the  beginning,  the  author  had  a  clear  per- 
ception of  exactly  what  he  wished  to  accomplish;  nor  is  the  sonnet 
by  chance  a  sonnet,  but  it  was  originally  conceived  as  a  sonnet. 
However  trite  this  may  seem  to  us,  only  a  glance  is  needed  at  the 
works  of  his  contemporaries  to  realize  that  it  was  a  revolutionary 
conception.  There  is  no  place  here  for  poems  written  "  to  eschew 
ydelnes,"  works  that  are  accretions  of  years  brought  together  be- 
cause of  a  common  topic,  such  as  Skelton,  or  Hawes,  or  Barclay, 
or  Heywood.  Wyatt's  works  are  on  a  different  plane  of  literary 
art. 

This  is  his  great  contribution  to  literature.  It  is  for  this  reason 
that  the  Elizabethans  recognized  in  him  the  beginning  of  English 
poetry,  why  Puttenham  calls  him  a  "lantern  of  light."  And  it 
was  perceived  even  in  his  own  time.  Immediately  after  his  death 
in  1542  Leland,  the  antiquary,  published  a  volume  of  Latin  elegies 
in  his  honor.^  In  most  of  them  the  worthy  antiquary  is  particularly 
interested  in  doing  full  justice  to  his  own  classical  learning,  so  that 
the  result  is  platitudinous.  But  in  them  one  can  see  how  one  man 
at  least  judged  him.  In  one  of  them  Wyatt  is  held  comparable  to 
Dante  and  Petrarch  in  the  vulgar  tongue.  There  are  two  others 
which  give  exactly  the  fact  here  stated. 

men  whose  influence  was  most  felt  among  other  nations."  Consequently  he 
came  under  the  influence  of  "the  grand"  Navagero,  Casliglione  whose  "own 
married  life  was  ideally  happy,"  and  Trissino.  Wliile  of  course  it  is  possible 
that  he  met  these  men  on  his  Italian  journey,  just  as  it  is  passible  that  he 
met  an  indefinite  number  of  others,  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  is  no  proof  that  he 
did. 

1  Naenxae  in  mortem  Thomae  Viaix  eqviti*  incomparabtlia,  Londini  l.'UZ.  This 
is  reprinted  by  Miss  Foxwell. 


484  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Anglica  lingua  fuit  rudis  &  sine  nomine  rhythmuB 
Nunc  limam  agnoscit  docte  Viate  tuam. 

Nobilitaa  didicit  te  prseceptore  Britanna 
^  Carmina  per  varies  scribere  posse  modos. 

That  expresses  precisely  Wyatt's  function.  In  an  age,  when  art 
in  its  narrow  sense  had  been  lost,  in  his  work  the  English  language 
did  find  again  the  art  of  omission,  did  recognize  his  file,  and  did 
leam  to  write  songs  in  various  clearly  differentiated  forms. 

For  such  a  purpose  as  this,  obviously,  the  content  of  the  individ- 
ual poems  is  a  secondary  matter.  Whether  or  not  they  are  auto- 
biographical, whether  or  not  he  did  love  Anne  Boleyn,  whether  or 
not  they  are  translations,  whether  or  not  they  express  his  real  con- 
victions,— none  of  these  is  particularly  important.  The  important 
thing  is  that  in  his  work  the  early  Tudor  found  examples  of  a  large 
variety  of  verse  forms,  coldly  but  carefully  worked  out.^  It  must 
be  granted  that  a  poet  whose  primary  interest  is  in  form,  rather 
than  in  content,  is  not  great.  Poetic  technique,  clever  phrase, 
witty  conceit  go  a  little  way,  but  only  a  little  way.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  great  emotions  that  have  aroused  poets  from  the  begin- 
ning are  not  present  in  Wyatt's  work.  The  nature  in  his  poems  is 
of  the  lion-and-tiger  sort  drawn  from  books;  beauty  apparently 
makes  little  appeal;  and  his  love  serves  merely  as  the  occasion  to 
make  far-fetched  comparisons.  This  lack  of  emotion  is  apparently 
one  of  the  reasons  why  critics  call  him  *'  virile ! "    His  better  poems 

'  Miss  Foxwell  tries  to  show  that  Wyatt  deduced  the  principles  of  his  versifi- 
cation from  the  Pynson  Chaitcer  of  1526.  (Study,  Chapter  VI.)  "Wyatt  de- 
liberately and  conscientiously  studied  Chaucer  with  a  view  of  carrying  on  his 
method  of  work,  and  made  his  exercise  in  versification  parallel  with  his  introduction 
of  the  Petrarchan  Sonnet."  From  that  he  made  rules  of  versification.  "The 
rules  collected  from  the  above  include  the  chief  rules  of  Wiat's  versification,  such 
as  the  slurring  of  vowels,  .  .  weak  syllables  ending  in  vowel-likes  (i.  e.  n,  r,  1,  n), 
and  slurring  of  verbal  ending  '-eth'  in  the  body  of  the  verse;  the  absence  of  weak 
stress  after  the  cassura,  and  before  the  strong  stress  of  the  second  foot;  the  caesura 
after  the  third  syllable  as  in  'palmers,'  and  the  occasional  variety  of  an  octo- 
syllabic line."  (The  Poems,  Appendix  D.)  In  regard  to  this  there  are  two  com- 
ments: (a)  these  "rules"  are  subjective  in  that  they  depend  upon  the  way 
in  which  the  line  is  read;  (b)  Wyatt's  versification,  like  that  of  his  contemporaries, 
including  the  Pynson  Chaucer,  was  affected  by  the  principles  of  the  Medieval 
Latin.  In  other  words,  it  is  unnecessary  to  discuss  Pynson,  since  Wyatt's  versi- 
fication is  that  of  his  age. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    485 

are  observations  of  the  life  around  him.  In  them  he  has  mastered 
the  medium,  he  carries  the  structure  easily,  and  at  the  same  time 
is  definite  and  concrete. 

They  fle  from  me,  that  sometyme  did  me  aeke  ^ 

suggests  an  actual  occasion,  or  the  epigram  written  to  Bryan  from 
prison.^  But  the  most  successful  are  those  written  to  be  sung. 
Such  poems  as  My  Lute  awake!  ^  F for  get  not  yet  the  tryde  enteni,*  or 
Blame  not  my  lute,^  have  maintained  their  place  in  all  anthologies. 
They  deserve  all  the  praise  that  has  been  lavished  upon  them.  The 
union  of  strength  and  grace  makes  a  rare  and  felicitous  combina- 
tion. But  in  spite  of  these,  and  the  six  or  eight  more  like  them,  the 
proposition  remains  true  that  for  his  age  Wyatt's  value  lay,  not 
in  the  few  pieces  where  the  fire  of  his  passion  has  amalgamated 
the  content  and  the  form  into  one  perfect  whole,  but  in  the  many 
others  which  may  not  unjustly  be  called  experiments  in  stanza- 
forms.  Not  only  is  the  rondeau,  the  sonnet,  the  terza  rima,  and  the 
ottava  rima  to  be  found,  he  made  experiments  also  with  the  mono- 
rime,  the  Medieval  Latin  types  of  simple  triplets  with  refrains,  of 
quatrains  of  different  combinations  of  length  of  line  and  different 
rime-schemes,  of  quatrains  with  codas,  with  French  forms  in 
the  douzaine  and  treizainey  and  finally  with  poulter's  meter.  There 
are  even  two  attempts  at  what  will  be  later  the  Elizabethan  sonnet. 
With  the  exception  of  the  heroic  couplet  and  of  blank  verse, — two 
very  important  exceptions, — most  of  the  stanzas  to  be  used  during 
the  century  are  there.  Of  course  with  our  ignorance  of  what  the 
other  writers  were  doing,  it  is  uncritical  to  assume  that  all  these 
novelties  were  first  imported  by  Wyatt, — an  assumption  that 
would  make  him  one  of  the  greatest  verse-technicians  in  the  history 
of  the  language, — but  they  prove  that  the  minds  of  the  men  in  the 

>  Poerru,  ed.  Foxwell,  I,  86. 

» Ibid.  I.  62. 

*Ibid,  I,  117.  This  poem  is  almost  certainly  Wyatt's  since  it  appears  in  the 
EgertoD  MS.  with  the  signature  "Tho".  It  was  assigned  to  George  Boleyn  by 
Paric  in  Nubae  Antiquae,  1804  and  also  in  a  note  to  the  Warton,  because  it  "in 
one  of  the  Harrington  MSS,  dated  1504.  is  ascribed  to  viscount  Rochford." 
Whatever  Park  may  have  meant  in  the  passage  quoted,  the  Egerton  MSS.  would 
take  precedence  in  any  case. 

*  Ibid..l.  801. 

» Ibid..  I.  303. 


486  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

circle  to  which  Wyatt  belonged  were  seriously  occupied  in  studying 
the  forms  of  verse. 

That  Wyatt  was  a  leader  in  this  circle  seems  probable,  not  only 
from  Puttenham's  statement,  but  also  from  the  number  of  manu- 
scripts that  have  been  preserved  containing  his  poems .  That  he  was 
the  founder  of  a  "school"  we  have  no  grounds  for  believing.  The 
variety  of  his  experiments  seems  to  argue  that  he  was  still  feeling 
his  way,  and  the  imitative  nature  of  them  does  not  suggest  a  domi- 
nating personality.^  He  was  a  fearless  diplomat  and  an  accom- 
plished courtier,  although  apparently  quick-tempered.  His  na- 
ture seems  to  have  been  grave  and  sweet,  meditating  over  moral 
issues.^  And  his  poems  bear  out  this  judgment.  Tottel's  phrase 
"the  weightinesse  of  the  depewitted  sir  Thomas  Wyat  the  elders 
verse"  is  sound  criticism;  but  that  he  "reft  Chaucer  the  glory  of 
his  wit"  is  Surrey's  exaggeration.  The  preceding  line,  however, 
that  he  "taught  what  might  be  said  in  ryme"  explains  the  con- 
temporary admiration.  If  this  be  true,  the  assumption  may  be 
plausible  that  such  songs  as  Henry's  Pastyme  with  good  companye, 
Gray's  The  hunie  is  vp,  Comysshe's  lyrics,  etc.,  etc.,  represent  the 
work  done  in  the  first  quarter  of  the  century.  Later,  George 
Boleyn,  Lord  Vaux,  Henry  Morley,  Heywood,  Anthony  Lee,  etc. 
composed  after  foreign  models.  This  would  explain  Tottel's  apol- 
ogy "If  parhappes  some  mislike  the  statelinesse  of  stile  remoued 
from  the  rude  skill  of  common  eares".  .  .  But  this  is  merely  an 
hypothesis.  The  authors  are  really  little  more  than  names!  Of 
George  Boleyn,  a  volume  of  whose  rhythmos  eleganiissimos  is 
listed  by  Bale,  one  song  alone  remains  and  his  authorship  of  that 
is  doubtful.  To  judge  of  Lord  Thomas  Vaux'  "maruelous  facil- 
litie, "  ^  two  short  pieces  are  given  us.  TotteVs  Miscellany,  as  we 
are  told  in  the  Preface  gives  us  those  poems  "which  the  ungentle 
borders  up  of  such  treasure  haue  heretofore  enuid  thee."    But 

'  Miss  Foxwell's  comment  {pp.  cit.,  2,  XX),  "Wiai's  life  and  vxrrk  is  a  song  of 
harmony.  The  'music  of  the  spheres'  is  here.  It  is  a  vindication  of  what  man 
can  become  with  lofty  aim  and  set  pmpose,"  proves  rather  her  sympathetic  im- 
agination than  her  critical  ability.  Flugel's  summary,  (Neuenglisches  Lesebuch, 
Halle  1895,  Band  1,376-382),  is  a  careful  statement  of  the  case. 

*  Two  letters  written  by  Wyatt  while  in  Spain  to  his  son  have  been  preserved. 
As  they  partake  of  the  nature  of  sermons,  one  wonders  in  what  mood  the  son, 
anxious  for  news  of  his  father,  received  these  improving  epistles. 

*  Puttenham,  op.  cit.,  247. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    487 

the  ungentle  borders  have  done  their  work !  Whatever  may  have 
been  the  "treasures,"  they  are  now  lost.  Of  the  group  Wyatt 
alone  survives.  And  if,  from  bis  work,  we  may  posit  conditions 
"and  characteristics  belonging  to  the  work  that  is  gone,  we  must 
recognize  that  these  men  consciously  followed  Italian  precedent. 

But  whereas  the  court  poetry  of  the  early  Tudors  followed  the 
precedent  of  Italian  poetry,  there  is  practically  no  influence  of  Ital- 
ian prose.  An  occasional  book,  such  as  More's  Life  of  Pico,  ap- 
peared, but  in  general,  so  far  as  the  lessons  to  be  learned  from  the 
great  Italians  are  concerned,  English  writers  were  woefully  ig- 
norant. This  condition  is  not  surprising.  To  copy  a  sonnet  re- 
quires far  less  drudgery  than  to  translate  a  folio  history;  in  the 
first  case,  it  is  jjossible  to  conceive  it  as  a  pastime,  while  the  second 
requires  appUcation  and  many  leisure  hours.  Therefore  such 
labor  would  not  be  usual  in  the  caste  to  which  Wyatt  belonged,  the 
class  most  open  to  Italian  influence.  But  Wyatt  himself  with  his 
two  college  degrees  must  have  represented  a  stage  far  in  advance 
of  the  majority  of  the  English  reading  public.  The  main  reason 
why  Italian  Prose  was  not  translated  is  because  there  was  no  de- 
mand. It  was  not  for  half  a  century  that  the  EngUsh  people  could 
appreciate  the  intellectual  analysis  of  a  Macchiavelli,  or  a  Guic- 
ciardini.  The  first  half  of  the  period  was  still  transitional  in  its 
character;  the  larger  part  was  still  medieval.  There  is  a  third 
factor  that  is  scarcely  independent  of  the  other  two,  the  intro- 
duction of  printing.  The  fact  that  a  book  was  long,  as  it  made 
reproduction  by  hand  onerous,  made  printing  the  logical  solution. 
So  Caxton,  when  he  found  that  people  wished  copies  of  his  Re- 
cueil  des  histoires  de  Troyes  determined  to  learn  the  art  of  printing. 
But  the  press  equally  made  literature  sensitive  to  the  popular  de- 
mand. As  the  object  in  issuing  any  given  publication  was  to  make 
money  by  selling  it,  the  inevitable  desire  was  to  issue  such  books 
as  the  people  would  buy.  Since  the  public  then  was  conservative, 
it  followed  logically  that  the  early  issues  of  the  press  in  England 
would  be  medieval  in  character,  that  it  served  to  project  medi- 
eval conceptions  into  the  early  Renaissance. 

In  any  discussions  of  the  works  of  the  early  printers  in  England, 
there  are  two  facts  that  must  be  remembered.  As  printing  was 
a  business,  the  printers  were  neither  well-bom  nor  well-educated. 
They  belonged  to  a  caste  very  different  from  any  of  the  authors  al- 


488  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

ready  discussed.  Before  their  shops  they  had  stalls  from  which 
books  were  sold  at  retail.  To  the  American  reader  this  may  seem 
to  imply  an  impossibility  of  intercourse  between  the  printers  and 
the  nobility.  Actually  it  did  not,  nor  do  the  facts  support  any 
such  contention.  Quite  the  reverse  was  true.  Snobbery  is  a  con- 
commitant  of  democracy,  because  when  every  man  is  as  good  as 
his  neighbor,  some  will  think  that  socially  they  are  a  little  better. 
But  this  self-assumed  social  superiority  requires  constant  asser- 
tion to  have  it  recognized  by  a  careless  and  egotistic  world.  With 
a  clearly  defined  caste  system  such  a  condition  is  impossible.  In 
the  army  there  is  no  awkwardness  in  the  meeting  between  the 
captain  and  the  corporal;  the  captain  is  captain  and  the  corporal 
is  corporal.  Nor  does  the  corporal  by  gesture,  or  speech,  try  to 
suggest  that  he  is  captain ;  his  rank  is  on  his  sleeve  and  all  who  run 
may  read.  Therefore  they  meet  on  terms  of  complete  under- 
standing. The  situation  was  the  same  between  the  prince  and  the 
printer  in  the  sixteenth  century.  We  are  apt  to  forget  this,  be- 
cause to  us  Caxton  (or  Shakespeare)  is  so  vastly  more  important 
than  the  casual  prince.  When  Caxton  alludes  to  Skelton,  uncon- 
sciously we  feel  that  the  latter  must  have  been  immensely  honored ! 
And  Skelton  was  the  tutor  to  the  Prince!  The  importance  of  this 
fact,  as  affecting  literary  conditions,  is  that,  aside  from  the  great 
democracy  of  the  Church,  the  social  status  was  a  pre-requisite  for 
formal  education.  As  the  early  printers  did  not  have  this  prerequi- 
site, naturally  they  also  lacked  the  training  of  the  schools.  The  re- 
sult was  that  literature  necessarily  became  popular  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  press;  being  popular,  it  was  necessarily  conservative. 

The  other  fact  important  for  its  literary  consequences  is  that 
for  the  first  half  century  of  its  existence  in  England  the  press  was 
controlled  to  a  very  large  degree  by  foreigners.  Although  Cax- 
ton himself  was  a  native  of  England,  the  thirty-five  years  previous 
to  the  estabHshment  of  his  press  in  Westminster  had  been  spent 
upon  the  continent  "for  the  most  part  in  the  contres  of  Braband, 
Flandres,  Holand  and  Zeland.  '*  After  1476,  when  Caxton  estab- 
lished the  first  EngUsh  press,  others  followed  but  slowly;  Oxford 
1478, 1479  (circ.)  St.  Albans,  and  1480  John  Lettou  in  London,  "but 
at  best  the  output  of  books  in  England  was  miserably  scanty.*" 

*  I  am  quoting  (and  utilizing  the  facts)  from  A  Century  of  the  English  Book  Trade 
by  E.  Gordon  Duff  printed  for  the  Bibliographical  Society  in  1905. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    489 

Whether  or  not  this  was  appreciated,  in  1484  to  the  act  regulating 
the  conditions  under  which  foreigners  might  trade  in  England  was 
put  the  curious  proviso: 

Provided  always,  that  this  act  or  any  parcel  thereof,  or  any  other  act  made  or 
to  be  made  in  this  said  parliament,  shall  not  extend,  or  be  in  prejudice,  disturbance 
damage  or  impediment  to  any  artificer  or  merchant  stranger,  of  what  nation  or 
country  he  be,  or  shall  be  of,  for  bringing  into  this  realm,  or  selling  by  retail  or 
otherwise,  any  books  written  or  printed,  or  for  inhabiting  within  this  said  realm 
for  the  same  intent,  or  any  scrivener,  alluminor,  binder  or  printer  of  such  books, 
which  he  hath  or  shall  have  to  sell  by  way  of  merchandise,  or  for  their  dwelling 
within  this  said  realm  for  the  exercise  of  the  said  occupations;  this  act  or  any  part 
thereof  notwithstanding.  ^ 

The  result  of  this  may  be  stated  in  the  words  of  the  same  authority :  ^ 

The  position  held  by  the  foreigner  in  the  English  book-trade  may  easily  be 
gauged  from  the  fact  that,  with  the  exception  of  William  Caxton  and  Thomas 
Hunte  the  Oxford  bookseller,  we  find  no  English  name  in  the  colophon  of  any  book 
printed  in  or  for  England  as  printer  or  bookseller  until  about  the  year  1516.  The 
school-master  of  St.  Albans  was  doubtless  also  an  Englishman,  but  his  name  is 
not  known.  That  there  were  many  English  booksellers  and  stationers  at  this 
time  is  certain,  but  for  some  reason  or  other  the  foreigner  took  the  lead  and  the 
native  workman  lagged  in  the  background. 

If  this  condition  be  true  and  the  reasoning  in  the  previous  para- 
graph be  sound,  we  should  find  that,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VII  and 
the  early  part  of  that  of  Henry  VIII,  the  press  was  issuing  books 
medieval  in  feeling  and  that  many  of  them  would  be  taken  from 
foreign  literatures.  And  as  the  French  predilections  of  Henry  VII 
are  well  known,  the  particular  foreign  literature  drawn  upon  would 
be  French.  But  as  this  favoring  of  the  foreigner  passed  away, — 
in  1523  it  was  forbidden  for  an  alien  to  take  any  apprentices  ex- 
cept English  bom,  and  to  keep  more  that  two  foreign  journey- 
men, and  in  1534  foreigners  were  prohibited  from  bringing  over 
books  to  retail, — the  foreign  influence  on  English  would  diminish. 
At  least,  that  is  the  condition  as  shown  by  the  li.sts  of  publi- 
cations. Fortunately  interest  in  the  early  printing  has  been  suffi- 
cient to  attract  specialists,  until  we  can  be  fairly  certain  of  what 

'Quoted  from  Duff,  op.  cit..  xi.     The  original  act  (Statute*  of  the  Re*lm,  fol. 
1816.  Vol.  ii.  p.  493.)  is  itself  in  French. 
*  ibid,  XV. 


490  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

was  published.  Without  attempting  even  to  state  the  separate 
problems  connected  with  Caxton's  work,  Sir  Sidney  Lee's  list  in 
the  Dictionary  of  National  Biobraphy  may  be  taken  as  a  working 
basis.  He  enumerates  there  seventy -one  separate  works.  ^  Of 
these  about  forty  per  cent  come  from  the  French.  The  surprise 
caused  by  this  percentage  lessens  when  the  entire  hst  is  considered. 
It  then  becomes  evident  that,  with  but  an  occasional  insignificant 
publication,  Caxton  has  printed  no  contemporary  works,  either 
of  English,  French,  or  Latin.  There  are  issues  of  single  works  by 
Chaucer  and  Lydgate,  Gower's  Confessio  Amantis,  from  the  Latin 
religious  tracts,  and  Reynard  the  Fox  from  the  Dutch.  Caxton 
is  obviously  looking  backward.  Consequently  his  publications 
scarcely  concern  the  student  of  the  Renaissance. 

They  concern  the  student  of  the  Renaissance  only  as  it  can  be 
shown  that  they  affected  subsequent  work.  In  the  case  of  Chau- 
cer and  Lydgate  this  is  clear.  But  from  the  French  Caxton  took 
one  book  that  has  had  a  marked  influence,  Sir  Thomas  Malory's 
Morte  Darthur}  This  was  issued  in  1485;  before  the  acces- 
sion of  Elizabeth  it  had  been  reprinted  three  times.  The  record 
does  not  show  great  popularity,  as  within  a  shorter  interval  the 
Pastime  of  Pleasure,  for  example,  had  had  five  editions;  nor  is  it 
fair  to  compare  the  number  of  editions  with  the  Chaucerian  list, 
since  one  is  prose  and  the  other  poetry,  whose  system  of  prosody 
had  been  forgotten.  It  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  measure  thus 
an  author's  influence  by  mere  quantity;  Flaubert's  influence  on 
the  English  prose  of  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  cer- 
tainly is  not  indicated  by  the  number  of  editions  of  his  translated 
works.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  certainly  true  that  to  the  modem 
reader  the  value  of  Malory's  book  is  enhanced  by  the  appreciation 
of  Spenser  and  Tennyson.  "A  national  epic"  Dr.  Sommer  calls 
it.  But  to  the  early  Tudors,  ignorant  of  the  future,  there  was  no 
national  epic  about  it.  They  took  it,  as  apparently  did  Caxton,  at 
its  face  value.    Although  Caxton's  preface  is  so  well  known  that 

^  Duff,  op.  cit.,  24:  "The  number  of  books  actually  printed  by  Caxton  in  England, 
counting  separate  editions,  is  ninety-six,  and  with  the  three  printed  at  Bruges,  and 
the  Missal,  he  issued  exactly  one  hundred  books." 

*  The  scholarly  edition  is  by  H.  Oskar  Sommer,  and  published  by  David  Nutt 
1889-91.  This  forms  the  basis  of  all  subsequent  work.  It  is  accompanied  with 
critical  apparatus,  and  an  appreciation  by  Andrew  Lang. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    491 

it  may  be  omitted  here,  I  may  be  permitted  to  refresh  the  memory 
of  the  reader  on  the  main  points.  Caxton  tells  us  that  of  the  three 
Christian  worthies,  the  story  of  Charlemagne  is  accessible  in  French 
and  English,  and  he  himself  had  printed  the  history  of  Godfrey  of 
Boulogne,  but  as  the  story  of  Arthur  was  not  at  hand,  he  was  asked 
to  print  it  by  "the  sayd  noble  lentylmen,"  because  Arthur  had 
been  "  borne  wy thin  this  royame  and  kyng  and  Emperour  of  the 
same. "  To  his  reply  that  some  believed  "that  there  was  no  suche 
Arthur,"  the  nobleman  pointed  out  the  many  relics  of  Arthur 
then  existing,  "wherfor  it  is  a  meruayl  why  he  is  no  more  re- 
nomed  in  his  owne  contreye." 

Thenne  al  these  thynges  forsayd  aledged  I  coude  not  wel  denye  /  but  that  there 
was  suche  a  noble  kyng  named  arthur  /  and  reputed  one  of  the  ix  Worthy  /  &  fyrst 
&  chyef  of  the  cristen  men  /  &  many  noble  volumes  be  made  of  hym  &  of  his  noble 
knyghts  in  frensshe  which  I  haue  seen  &  redde  beyonde  the  see  /  which  been  not 
had  in  our  maternal  tongue  /  but  in  walsshe  ben  many  &  also  in  frensshe  /  &  somme 
in  englysshe  but  no  where  nygh  alle  /  wherfore  suche  as  haue  late  ben  drawn  oute 
bryefly  into  englysshe  /  I  haue  after  the  symple  connynge  that  god  hath  sente  to 
me  /  vnder  the  fauour  and  correctyon  of  al  noble  lordes  and  gentylmen  enprysed 
to  enprynte  a  book  of  the  noble  hystoryes  of  the  sayd  kynge  Arthur  /  and  of  certeyn 
of  his  knyghtes  after  a  copye  vnto  me  delyuerd  /  whyche  copye  Syr  Thomas  Mal- 
orye  dyd  take  oute  of  certeyn  bookes  of  frensshe  and  reduced  it  in  to  Englysshe  / 
And  I  accordyng  to  my  copye  haue  doon  sette  it  in  enprynte  /  to  the  entente  that 
noble  men  may  see  and  leme  the  noble  actes  of  chyualrye  /  the  lentyl  and  vertuous 
dedes  that  somme  knyghtes  vsed  in  tho  dayes  /  by  whyche  they  came  to  honour  / 
and  how  they  that  were  vycious  were  punysshed  and  ofte  put  to  shame  and  rebuke 
/  humbly  bysechyng  al  noble  lordes  and  ladyes  wyth  al  other  estates  of  what  estate 
or  degree  they  been  of  /  that  shal  see  and  rede  in  this  sayd  book  and  werke  /  that 
they  take  the  good  and  honest  actes  in  their  remembraunce  /  and  to  folowe  the 
same  /  Wherin  they  shalle  fynde  many  loyous  and  playsaunt  hystoryes  /  and  noble 
&  renoraed  actes  of  humanyte  /  gentylnesse  and  chyualryes  /  For  herein  may  be 
seen  noble  chyualrye  /  Curtosye  /  Humanyte  /  frendlynesse  /  hardynesse  /  loue  / 
frendshyp  /  Cowardyse  /  Murdre  /  hate  /  vertue  /  and  synne  /  Doo  after  the  good 
and  leue  the  euyl  /  and  it  shal  brynge  you  to  good  fame  and  renommee  /  And  for 
to  passe  the  tyme  thys  boook  shal  be  plesaunte  to  rede  in  /  but  for  to  gyue  fayth 
and  byleue  that  al  is  trewe  that  is  conteyned  herein  /  ye  be  at  your  lyberte  / 

Modem  scholarship  has  shown  that  this  is  an  exact  account  of  the 
origin  of  the  famous  book.  Sir  Thomas  Malory, — and  of  him  we 
know  little  more  than  Caxton  tells  us  ^ — "reduced"  into  English 

'  Professor  Kittredge  {Harvard  Studies  and  Notes,  vol.  v,  p.  85)  baa  plausibly 
united  the  name  to  an  historic  Sir  Thomas  Mallory. 


492  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

prose  a  number  of  French  poems  dealing  with  the  Arthur  stories.* 
The  originals  were  in  French,  because  the  subject  matter  was  com- 
posed at  a  time  when  French  was  the  great  dominant  language. 
Of  this  treatment  of  the  material,  as  the  matter  is  confessedly 
beyond  my  knowledge,  I  can  do  no  better  than  to  quote  in  full 
Dr.  Sommer's  summary :  ^ 

As  regards  the  special  features  of  Malory 's  compilation,  I  trust  I  have  succeeded 
in  clearly  exhibiting  his  merits  and  demerits  as  a  writer.  I  have  shown  that  he 
sometimes  added  small  episodes  of  his  own  composition,  though  as  a  rule,  he  con- 
tented himself  with  welding  into  one  the  diverse  materiab  that  were  at  his  disposal, 
and  that  not  infrequently  he  literally  translated  entire  passages  from  his  French, 
or  made  large  transcripts  from  his  English,  sources. 

We  owe  the  worthy  knight  a  deep  debt  of  gratitude  both  for  preserving  the 
mediaeval  romances  in  a  form  which  enabled  them  to  remain  an  integral  p»ortion 
of  English  Uterature,  and  for  rescuing  from  oblivion  certain  French  versions  of 
great  value  to  the  critical  student.  But  truth  demands  that  we  should  not  rate 
him  too  highly.  To  put  it  mildly,  his  work  is  very  unequal — sometimes  he  excels, 
but  often  he  falls  beneath,  oftener  still,  he  servilely  reproduces  his  originals.  Nor 
can  his  selection  of  material  be  unreservedly  praised.  DiflBculties  in  procuring  cer- 
tain MSS.  may  possibly  have  occurred  of  which  we  have  nowadays  no  idea;  yet, 
giving  him  the  full  benefit  of  this  supposition,  we  must  still  say  that  he  left  out  many 
of  the  most  touching  and  admirable  portions  of  the  French  romances,  and  that  he 
has  incorporated  others  of  inferior  quality.  The  most  marked  and  distressing 
instance  is  his  preference  of  the  trivial  and  distasteful  version  of  the  Merlin  and 
Viviene  episode  as  found  in  the  "Suite  de  Merlin"  to  the  exquisite  version  of  the 
Vulgate-Merlin,  which,  in  its  mingling  of  wild  romance  and  delicate  sentiment,  is 
perhaps  the  most  beautiful  and  characteristic  story  of  mediaeval  literature.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  Malory  must  always  be  counted  as  an  English  classic. 

As  it  was  not  an  "English  classic"  to  the  early  Tudors,  the  inter- 
esting question  is  how  did  they  regard  it,  and  other  romances  Uke 
it.  The  answer  is  to  be  found  in  the  words  of  Caxton  quoted. 
Clearly  many  thought  that  the  whole  story  was  without  historical 
foundation.  But  scattered  through  the  south  of  England  were 
numerous  relics,  the  sepulcher  at  Glastonbury,  the  seal  at  West- 
minster, the  round  table  at  Winchester,  Gawain's  skull  at  Dover, 
etc.,  the  local  custodians  of  which,  unless  the  tribe  was  very  differ- 
ent from  that  of  today,  fervently  believed  in  their  particular  relic' 

^  This  has  all  been  done  with  great  care  by  Dr.  Sommers,  op.  cit. 
*  Ibid.  vol.  iii,  294. 

'  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  readers  of  that  age  were  familiar  with  similar 
relics  of  the  saints,  relics  that  worked  miracles,  to  doubt  which  was  heresy. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERA.TURE    493 

And  it  must  be  confessed  that  a  skull  is  a  convincing  proof  of  pre- 
vious existence!  But  whether  or  no  Arthur  actually  existed,  the 
book  described  the  manners  of  a  noble  age,  from  which  many  les- 
sons might  well  be  drawn.  And,  lastly,  it  made  amusing  reading. 
In  an  age  when  Hawes  dared  to  call  his  poem  The  Pastime  of  Pleas- 
ure^  surely  this  last  was  not  to  be  despised.  But  so  far  from  the 
book  pretending  to  import  French  influence,  it  was,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  sixteenth  century,  immaterial  whether  the  sources 
were  English,  French  or  Welsh. 

The  attitude  was  so  different  from  that  of  this  sceptical  age  of 
ours  that  we  find  diflficulty  in  comprehending  it.  With  historical 
research  we  test  each  fact,  scrutinize  each  text.  Contemporary 
evidence  is  sought  to  refute  tradition  and  paleography  dis- 
proves the  statement  by  the  words  used  in  making  it.  Tell  is  a 
myth,  Tiberius  a  model,  and  the  "higher  criticism"  has  shorn  the 
prophets  of  their  prophecies!  But  in  the  sixteenth  century  men 
did  not  know,  could  not  know,  and  did  not  very  much  wish  to 
know  the  historical  facts.  "History"  and  "story"  had  not  yet 
become  differentiated.  This  may  be  illustrated  by  Lord  Berners. 
In  1523-25  he  translated  Froissart's  Chronicle  at  the  request  of 
Henrj'  VII.  Henry's  taste  must  have  been  in  advance  of  his  age 
if  one  may  judge  by  the  limited  number  of  editions.^  The  size  of 
the  publication  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  its  lack  of 
sale,  but  whatever  the  reason,  it  seems  clear  that  to  Lord  Berners' 
contemporaries  Froissart  did  not  make  a  strong  appeal.  Such  a 
fact  as  this  gives  one  pause.  Froissart  is  such  a  famous  book,  and 
in  his  amiable  accounts  of  battle,  murder  and  sudden  death  we 
ourselves  find  so  much  charm,  that  we  infer  that  they  also  must 
have  loved  it.  Froissart  is  not  analytic,  and  he  is  not  hard  read- 
ing, and  his  descriptions  are  those  of  one  who  knows.  ^  The  Eng- 
lish version  is  rendered  simply  and  quaintly — naturally  we  pic- 
ture them  bending  with  absorption  over  its  pages.  But  the  fact 
is  that  they  did  not!    By  the  humanists,  those  to  whom  the  vivid 

^  Parts  1  and  2  were  printed  by  Pynson  in  15tS;  Srd  and  4th,  in  1524;  and  vol.  2 
in  I5i5.  Then  Wiliam  Middleton  reprinted  vol.  1  in  two  undated  issues,  but  vol- 
ume one  only.  As  he  was  admitted  a  freemen  in  1541  and  died  in  1547,presimiably 
the  parts  of  half  Berners'  book  falls  between  these  dates. 

'  Cf.  The  subtile  and  sjinpathetic  criticism  on  Froissart  by  Mr.  William  Paton 
Ker,  prefixed  to  the  Tudor  Translation  reprint  of  Berners  1901. 


494  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

presentation  of  a  past  age  would  naturally  appeal,  it  was  con- 
temptuously dismissed  as  "gothic."  The  others,  as  yet  unaffected 
by  the  new  culture,  had  what  is  to  us  an  astounding  credulity,  and 
actuality  was  matter  of  minor  importance  to  them.  Bemers* 
geography  is  incredibly  inexact.    As  he  naively  tells  us;  ^ 

as  for  the  true  namyng  of  all  maner  of  personages,  countreis,  cyties,  townes, 
ryvers,  or  feldes,  whereas  I  coude  nat  name  them  properly  nor  aptely  in  Englysshe 
I  have  written  them  accordynge  as  I  founde  them  in  Frenche. 

Also  by  his  own  confession  the  distances  measured  in  miles  and 
leagues  must  be  understood  "acordyng  to  the  custome  of  the  coun- 
treis where  as  they  be  named " — in  other  words  they  mean  prac- 
tically nothing  at  all !  And  yet  at  the  very  time  when  he  was  trans- 
lating, he  was  there  in  France  presumably  with  opportunity  to 
verify  the  French  version.  But  to  verify  never  occurred  to  him. 
Clearly  Froissart  to  him  was  not  an  author  writing  of  actual  events 
that  he  knew  personally  or  from  the  lips  of  participants;  the  in- 
terest lay  in  the  narration  of  the  events  themselves. 

This  criticism  is  illustrated  by  the  ease  with  which  Lord  Ber- 
ners  turned  from  translating  Froissart  to  translating  the  old  ro- 
mances. Incredible  as  it  seems,  those  impossible  adventures  were 
accepted  as  statements  of  fact.  Li  Arthur  of  LitUe  Britain  *  even 
he  seems  to  have  been  unable  to  believe;  he  fears  that  it  is  a  "fay- 
ned  mater,  wherin  semeth  to  be  so  many  unpossybylytees. "  But 
he  comforts  himself  that  in  the  other  "noble  hystoryes"  there  is 
the  same  difficulty.  Certainly  the  same  difficulty  is  in  the  most 
famous  romance  that  he  translated,  the  Hium  of  Burdeux.^  The 
French  prose  compilation  of  the  Hium  stories  was  published  in  1513. 
Bemers'  translation,  undated,  was  printed  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde, 
who  died  late  in  1534  or  early  in  1535.  As  in  the  EngUsh  Huon 
there  is  no  preface,  the  assumption  is  that,  although  finished  be- 
fore the  Golden  Book,  it  was  not  published  until  after  the  death  of 
the  translator  in  March  1533.  The  date  of  publication,  therefore, 
is  limited  to  the  years  1533-34.  Neither  did  this  book  have  a  con- 
temporary success.  The  second  edition  is  1570(?)  and  the  third 
1601 .    Certainly  this  record  is  not  one  of  overwhelming  popularity. 

*  For  a  discussion  of  Lord  Bemers  and  his  work,  the  reader  is  requested  to  turn 
back  to  pp.  S69fif.  where  the  passages  are  cited  at  greater  length. 

2  Published  in  1882  for  the  E.  E.  T.  S.  withan  introduction  by  Sidney  Lee. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    495 

There  exists  today  a  curious  tendency  to  overestimate  both  the 
literary  value  and  the  effect  upon  hterature  of  such  books  as  this. 
The  scholarly  question  of  the  origins  of  the  various  stories  and 
their  mutual  relation  is  of  course  fascinating,^  and  equally  of  course 
it  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  sixteenth  century.  Their 
interest  in  the  book  was  not  in  the  analysis  of  its  component 
parts;  they  accepted  it  as  the  history  of  an  actual  man  and  be- 
lieved, or  half -believed,  it  as  a  record  of  real  experience.  In  other 
words,  in  Berners'  mind  in  passing  from  Froissart  to  the  romances, 
there  was  not  the  transition  of  moving  from  history  to  fiction  that 
there  is  in  ours.  To  all  intents  and  purposes  one  was  as  true  as  the 
other,  only  more  interesting.^  To  appreciate  the  full  import  of  this 
statement  it  must  be  remembered  that  Huon,  having  slain  in  self- 
defense  the  son  of  Charlemagne,  is  ordered  to  go  to  the  city  of 
Babylon  (Cairo),  to  the  Admiral  Gaudys,  to  cut  off  the  head  of  the 
greatest  lord  sitting  at  his  banquet,  to  do  the  same  thing  to  the 
fianc6  of  the  daughter,  kiss  her  three  times  in  presence  of  the  court, 
to  demand  a  tribute  of  a  thousand  hawks,  a  thousand  bears,  a  thou- 
sand hounds,  a  thousand  youths  and  a  thousand  maidens,  and  to 
bring  back  a  handful  of  the  hair  of  the  Admiral's  beard  and  four 
of  his  greatest  teeth.  On  this  preposterous  errand  Huon  meets 
equally  preposterous  adventures,  aided  by  innumerable  unknown 
relatives  and  by  the  fairy  king  Oberon.  He  achieves  his  quest, 
marries  the  daughter  of  the  Admiral,  and  regains  his  duchy  of  Bor- 
deaux. Here  ends  the  first  part.  The  continuation  relates  how, 
besieged  in  Bordeaux  by  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  he  escapes  to 
seek  help, — by  this  means  encountering  a  whole  new  series  of  ad- 
ventures. It  closes  by  his  being  appointed  the  successor  of  Obe- 
ron as  King  of  Fairyland.  Having  seen  Huon  established  success- 
fully in  a  highly  desirable  position,  the  reader  is  disheartened  by 
discovering  that  the  romance  continues  with  first  tlie  adventures 
of  his  daughter,  Clariet,  then  of  his  grandson,  Ide,'  and,  finally,  of 
his  great-grandson   Croissant!     This   genealogical   collection  of 

*  This  is  epitomized  in  Chapters  IV,  V  and  VI  in  the  History  of  the  Novel  Previoua 
to  the  Seventeenth  Century  by  F.  M.  Warren,  New  York  1895. 

'This  is  outlined  (not  quite  accurately)  in  Dunlop's  History  of  Prose  Fiction, 
revised  by  Henry  Wilson,  1888,  Vol.  1,  294  ff .    Only  the  first  two  parts  are  here  given. 

'  At  least  Ide,  who  in  the  opening  of  the  story  is  a  woman,  at  the  close  is  pro- 
moted to  manhood. 


496  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

"unpossybylytees"  is  told  baldly,  without  poetic  imagination 
and  with  no  sense  of  humor.  According  to  the  tale,  Charlemagne 
actually  had  a  craving  for  the  beard  and  teeth  of  the  Admiral;  it 
was  not,  as  the  modem  reader  suspects,  a  ruse  to  have  Huon  killed, 
because  he  has  previously  sent  fifteen  men  on  the  same  ridiculous 
errand !  The  characters  are  unmotivated  and  their  actions  monoto- 
nously unexpected.^  Apparently  the  one  method  to  assure  Huon's 
performance  of  any  deed  is  to  have  it  forbidden  by  authority  and 
contrary  to  commonsense.  The  only  virtues  he  possesses  are 
that  he  is  honest  and  faithful  to  his  love.  There  seems  no  remote 
conception  of  fair  play.  He  wins  by  magic,  a  factor  which  neces- 
sarily gives  him  an  immense  advantage.  If  a  man  wear  enchanted 
armour  that  renders  him  invincible,  wherein  lies  the  prowess  of  his 
victory?  Naturally  fiction  is  not  restricted  to  probable,  or  even 
possible,  events.  Granting  the  suppositions  demanded  by  the 
author  we  may  be  carried  to  unknown  lands  and  uncounted  perils, 
and  the  fact  that  they  are  not  true  does  not  disturb  us  provided 
also  that  they  seem  imaginatively  true  while  we  are  reading.  This 
implies  that  the  author  must  have  learned  the  art  so  to  treat  the 
impossible  that  it  seems  real,  that  in  imagination  he  must  have 
preceded  us,  and  that  he  has  acquired  the  knowledge  of  emphasis 
and  of  the  convincing  detail.  Whatever  our  reason  may  tell  us  to 
the  contrary,  we  feel  the  tale  ought  to  be  true.  But  this  is  where 
Berners,  or  his  original,  fails.  He  does  not  differentiate  between 
the  credible  and  the  incredible,  and  tells  both  in  the  same  tone. 
Now,  most  adults  would  admit  that  the  Ugly  Duckling,  as  Ander- 
son tells  it,  is  incredible,  yet  we  all  feel  its  poetic  truth.  On  the 
other  hand.  Jack  the  Giant  Killer  is  appreciated  only  by  children. 
Intellectually  Huon  of  Burdeux  is  on  the  same  plane  as  Jack  the 
Giant  Killer.    In  each  case  the  sole  basis  of  interest  is  in  the 

^  Ten  Brink,  History  of  English  Literature,  translated  by  Dora  Schmitz,  1896 
iii,  189:  "For  even  though  the  French  prose- version  (produced  about  1454)  lacks 
strict  unity  of  conception  and  construction — for,  in  addition  to  the  nucleus  offered 
by  the  Chanson  de  Geste  of  the  twelfth  century,  it  includes  also  the  greater  portion 
of  the  additions  the  "Chanson"  received  subsequently — still  it  contains  so  much 
grace  in  the  narrative  and  descriptions,  such  happy  motives  for  the  story  and  the 
delineation  of  the  characters,  that,  with  some  abbreviations,  a  reader  of  our  day 
even  would  find  pleasure  in  perusing  it.  In  Berners'  translation  the  narrative  lost 
nothing  of  its  attractiveness — ."  Is  it  credible  that  the  great  Dutch  scholar  never 
read  the  book? 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    497 

belief  in  the  reality  of  the  events.  In  the  author  and  in  the  reader 
it  presupposes  the  ignorant  credulity  of  the  child.  And  that  must 
have  been  the  condition  of  Lord  Berners  and  those  for  whom  he 
wrote.  He,  probably,  to  judge  from  his  remarks  about  Arthur  of 
Little  Britain  did  not  think  that  the  incidents  were  true,  but  he  did 
not  know  that  they  were  not  true, — &  mental  condition  that  is 
quite  different.  In  his  mind  there  was  a  large  zone  of  half-belief. 
Although  this  was  written  a  dozen  or  more  years  after  the  Utopia, 
he  belongs  to  an  earlier  age.  To  him,  the  stories  came  with  the 
weight  of  tradition.  The  new  geographic  discoveries  with  their 
startling  tales  of  Indian  emperors  and  of  cities  of  gold  would 
strengthen  his  power  of  believing.  Also,  the  action  took  place  in  an 
age  long  past,  "in  the  tyme  acountyde  the  yere  of  grace  vii.c.  & 
Ivi.  yere  the  crucyfyynge  of  oure  Sauyour  Ihu  Cryst,"  and  he  had 
couNancing  authority  for  believing  that  there  were  giants  in  those 
days.  Nor  did  he  have  any  basis  for  comparison.  Chaucer,  with 
knights  as  commonplace  phenomena,  could  say  satirically  ^ 

Now  every  wys  man,  lat  him  herkne  me; 

This  storie  is  al-so  trewe,  I  undertake. 

As  is  the  book  of  Launcelot  de  Lake, 

That  wommen  holdc  in  ful  gret  reverence  ...» 

but  to  Berners  chivalry  was  only  a  tradition.  He  had  neither  the 
habit  of  mind,  nor  the  knowledge,  to  render  him  sceptical. 

How  general  was  this  condition  among  the  readers  in  Lord  Ber- 
ners' generation  it  is  hard  to  estimate.^  There  are  indications  a 
plenty, — only  one  cannot  be  quite  sure  what  they  indicate.  For 
example,  in  the  Eliisabethan  literature  there  are  numerous  allusions 
to  the  old  romances,  but  it  does  not  follow  from  such  allusions  that 
the  writer  had  ever  read  the  romance  to  which  he  alluded.  The 
names  of  their  heroes  had  become  commonly  familiar,  suggesting 
the  superman,  but  quite  probably  often  with  no  definite  romance 
in  mind,  just  as  today  in  current  literature  you  find  Don  Juan  or 
Lothario.    The  hero  had  become  a  type.    Or  the  allusion  may  have 

•  The  Nonnea  Preestes  Tale,  4400-03. 

*  I  heartily  second  Professor  Crane  {The  Voffue  of  Guy  Wancidc,  Publications  of 
the  Mod.  Lang.  Ass.  xxx,  2.)  in  wishing  a  systematic  study  of  the  persistence  of 
the  romances  during  the  Tudor  period,  and  I  confess  my  indebtedness  to  his  in- 
forming article. 


498  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

been  due  to  childish  memories,  as  we  know  Jaxik  the  Giant  Killer} 
An  illustration  of  the  nebulous  influence  of  these  old  romances  may 
be  found  in  the  Huon.  It  will  be  remembered  that  early  in  his 
adventures  Huon  encounters  the  fairy  king  Oberon,  a  personage 
that  through  two  parts  of  the  book  plays  the  important  role  of  deus 
ex  mcichina.  His  function  seems  to  be  to  warn  Huon  against  certain 
acts  and  then  to  rescue  him  after  he  has  committed  them.  He  is  a 
very  beautiful  dwarf,  a  fairy  who  is  yet  mortal,  and  with  clearly 
defined  magical  powers.  There  is  no  question  that  he  was  first 
introduced  to  English  readers  by  Lord  Berners,  and  he  made  a 
strong  appeal.  When,  therefore,  we  find  Oberon  as  a  character  in 
Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  we  feel  confident  that  we  know  one 
book  that  was  in  Shakespeare's  library.  Actually  the  two  charac- 
ters have  scarcely  one  trait  in  common,  except  the  name.  Surely 
to  assume  that  Shakespeare  gave  to  his  character  a  name  somewhat 
vaguely  associated  in  his  mind  with  the  King  of  the  Fairies,  is  more 
probable  than  to  think  that  he  made  use  of  Berners'  work  only 
to  change  the  conception.  To  Lord  Berners,  however,  must  be 
granted  the  credit — the  amount  of  which  each  may  figure  for  him- 
self,— of  introducing  the  name  into  English  literature. 

Another  method  of  estimating  the  influence  of  the  old  romances 
is  to  consult  the  bibliographical  records.  The  limitation  of  this 
method  is  that  we  do  not  know  the  number  of  copies  to  each  issue, 
nor  even  whether  the  number  was  uniform.  Huon  of  Burdeux,  for 
example,  survives  in  a  unique  copy.  As  it  is  a  long  work,  if  it  had 
been  a  large  edition  the  probability  is  that  there  would  be  now 
more  copies,  or  at  least  fragments.  If  it  were  a  small  edition, 
naturally  the  number  of  possible  readers  would  be  correspondingly 
limited.  A  relative  estimate  may  be  made,  as  Pynson,  for  example, 
printed  over  three  hundred  books  of  which  only  three  are  romances. 
This  proportion  does  not  argue  an  immense  popularity.  And  it 
is  not  surprising.  During  the  period  that  Pynson  was  printing 
humanism  was  most  active,  and  humanism,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
strongly  opposed  to  the  medieval  romances.^  Although  humanism 
could  never  have  been  popular,  in  the  early  days  of  the  press  the 

^It  is  probable  that  not  one  of  my  readers  for  pleasure  only  has  read  that 
fascinating  tale  since  childhood,  and  it  is  equally  probable  that  not  one  has  failed 
to  understand  the  allusion. 

*  Cf.  pp.  323-326. 


INFLUENCE  OP  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    499 

humanists  must  have  been  exceedingly  influential  with  that  part 
of  the  public  that  bought  books.  Also,  with  the  increased  facil- 
ity for  printing,  the  press  would  make  an  appeal  to  classes  be- 
yond the  range  of  humanistic  influence.  The  expectation  would  be, 
therefore,  from  the  middle  of  the  century  to  find  more  romances 
issued  and  at  a  cheaper  rate.  We  find  William  Copland  and  Ca- 
wood  printing  them.  Still  another  factor  must  be  remembered, 
namely,  that  in  the  second  decade  of  Elizabeth's  reign  there  was  a 
revival  of  interest  in  the  earher  authors.  Not  only  the  romances 
but  Skelton,  Barclay,  and  others  were  again  printed.  It  is  from 
this  period,  I  think,  that  the  copies  of  medieval  stories  came  that 
figure  in  such  Hsts  as  that  of  Captain  Cox's  library.  But  that  is  at 
present  beyond  our  scope.  For  the  first  half  of  the  century,  the 
romances  do  not  seem  to  have  been  particularly  sought  after,  and, 
even  if  they  had  been,  they  would  have  brought  in  only  a  slight 
degree  of  French  influence. 

Aside  from  these  romances  which,  as  they  had  been  originally 
written  in  French,  were  first  reduced  to  French  prose  and  then 
translated  into  English  prose,  a  number  of  French  books  crossed 
the  Channel.  Most  of  these  scarcely  come  under  the  head  of  litera- 
ture. The  XV  Tokens,  the  Booget  of  Demaunds,  the  Art  of  Memory, 
the  Rutter  of  the  Sea, — ^books  on  religion,  riddles,  medicine, 
navigation,  etc.,  etc. — they  show  exactly  the  natural  intercourse 
between  the  two  countries.  The  type  of  book  taken  may  be  il- 
lustrated by  the  Kalendar  of  Shepherdes,  one  of  the  most  popular 
books  of  the  age,  and  by  reputation  at  least  well-known  to  us  be- 
cause from  it  Spenser  adapted  the  title  to  his  first  published  work.^ 
The  number  of  editions  it  may  be  worth  the  while  to  state  for  the 
sake  of  comparison  with  the  number  of  the  romances.  By  1560  in 
the  French  there  had  been  nineteen,  and  there  had  been  eight  differ- 
ent issues  of  the  English  translation.  The  first  edition  is  a  bibliog- 
raphical curiosity,  that  is  not  without  bearing  on  the  question  of 
French  books  in  England  and  on  early  printing.  In  1503  Antoine 
V6rard,  the  Parisian  printer,  issued  three  books  in  English,  The 
traytte  of  good  living,  CasUe  of  Labour,  and  Kalendayr  of  shyppars} 

*  My  Btatementa  are  drawn  from  the  very  elaborate  edition  by  H.  Oskar  Soramer, 
London,  1892.  In  his  characteristic  way  Ur.  Sommer  haa  investigated  the  various 
problems  so  thoroughly  that  English  scholurahip  will  be  in  his  debt  for  a  long  time. 

*  Antoine  Virard,  by  John  Macfurland,  Bibliographical  Suciet}-,  190U.     .Vs  has 


500  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Verard,  like  Gerard  Leeu  and  Jan  Van  Doesborgh,  apparently  had 
determined  to  invade  the  English  market.  So  far  there  is  nothing 
strange.  But  to  translate  the  popular  Compost  et  Kalendier  des 
hergiers  he  employed,  as  seems  likely,  a  young  Scotchman  who 
lacked  the  somewhat  necessary  qualification  for  such  a  task  of 
possessing  a  thorough  knowledge  of  either  French  or  English.  As 
Verard's  ignorance  of  English  prevented  him  from  judging  his 
assistant's  work,  the  result  appeared  in  a  book  the  language  of 
which  may  safely  be  described  as  unique.  Ben  Jonson's  remark 
on  the  Faerie  Queene  quite  literally  applies  here;  "it  was  writ  in  no 
language."  But  the  book  itself  seemed  so  valuable  that  it  was 
worth  rewriting.  Consequently  in  1506  Pynson,  without  translat- 
ing the  original  French,  tried  to  re-work  the  English.  His  reasons 
for  this  seem  worth  quoting:  ^ 

Here  before  tyme  thys  boke  was  prynted  In  parys  In  to  comipte  englysshe  and 
nat  by  no  englysshe  man  wherfore  these  bokes  that  were  brought  Into  Inglonde  no 
man  coude  vnderstonde  them  perfetly  and  no  maruayll  for  hit  is  vnlekly  for  a  man 
of  that  countrey  for  to  make  hyt  Into  perfyte  englysshe  as  it  shulde  be.  §  Newely 
nowe  it  is  drawne  out  of  f  rensshe  into  englysshe  at  the  instaunce  &  coste  and  charge 
of  Rycharde  Pynson  and  for  by  cause  he  sawe  that  men  of  other  countries  inter- 
medellyd  with  that  that  they  cowde  no  skyll  in  /  and  therefore  the  foresayde. 
Rycharde  Pynson  and  shuche  as  longethe  to  hym  hath  made  it  into  playne  en- 
glysshe to  the  entente  that  euery  man  may  vnderstonde  it  /  that  thys  boke  is  verya 
profytable  bothe  for  clerkes  and  laye  people  to  cause  them  to  haue  great  vnder- 
stondyng  and  in  espessyall  in  that  we  be  bounde  to  leme  and  knowe  on  peyne  of 
auerlfistinge  deth. 

In  spite  of  Pynson's  statement,  it  is  quite  clear  to  us  that  his  book 
is  merely  a  new  version  of  the  Verard.  It  was  also  clear  to  his 
contemporaries  since  two  years  later,  for  Wynkyn  de  Worde, 
Robert  Copland  translated  the  French  of  1497.  Thus  in  six  years 
there  were  three  different  editions  in  English  of  this  one  French 
book.  Although  elaborately  illustrated  and  a  mixture  of  prose  and 
verse,  it  belongs  to  the  purlieus  of  literature.  The  book  opens  with 
an  address  by  the  Master  Shepherd  comparing  the  stages  of  man's 
life  to  the  months  of  the  year.    Then  it  is  divided  into  five  parts. 

been  said,  Mr.  Gordon  DuflF  discovered  a  single  leaf  of  this  edition  of  the  Castle 
of  Labour  among  the  Bagford  collections.  Although  undated,  as  the  type  also 
is  found  nowhere  else  but  in  the  Kalendayr  of  shyppars,  the  date  is  probably  also 
1503.  The  iraytte  of  good  lyuyng  and  good  Deyng,  extant  in  three  copies,  shows  the 
peculiarities  of  the  Kalendar.  Sonamer,  op.  cit.  i,  30. 
*  Sommer,  op.  cit.,  iii,  7. 


INFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    501 

§  The  fyrste  of  oure  synes  of  the  compot  and  the  kalender. 

§  The  seconde  is  the  tre  of  vyces  with  the  peynes  of  hell. 

§  The  thyrde  is  the  waye  of  helthe  of  man,  the  tre  of  vertues. 

§  The  foureth  is  fesseke  and  gouemoure  of  helthe. 

§  The  fyfte  is  astrology  fysnomy  for  to  vnderstonde  many  dysceyuynges 
and  whyche  they  be  by  lychelyhode  thewhich  by  nature  are  inclyn- 
ede  and  can  do  them  as  ye  shall  rede  or  ye  come  to  the  ende. 

It  needs  only  be  said  that  this  program  is  faithfully  carried  out. 
There  is  a  perpetual  calendar  and  complicated  tables  by  which  one 
can  findjand  remember  the  saints'  days  and  feast  days  of  the  Church. 
This  part  is  purely  practical.  The  second  and  third  parts  are  re- 
ligious. Here  are  to  be  found  the  translated  creed,  the  ten  com- 
mandments and  the  five  commandments  of  the  Church,  and  in 
addition  the  account  of  Lazarus'  visit  to  hell,  vividly  pictured  and 
luridly  described,  the  many  ramifications  of  the  seven  deadly  sins, 
and  the  tree  of  virtues.  In  quite  another  manner  the  fourth  dis- 
cusses when  a  man  should  be  bled,  and  where.  And  the  fifth  is  an 
omnibus  section,  comprising  physiognomy  and  astrology,  a  brief 
account  of  the  ten  Christian  nations,  verses  on  an  assault  against 
a  snail,  etc.,  etc.  In  this  combination  of  the  calendar  with  reli- 
gious, medical  and  astrological  features  it  suggests  the  old  New 
England  almanacs.  Like  them,  too,  it  filled  the  function  performed 
by  the  modern  magazine.  There  is  a  little  something  of  everything 
for  everybody.  In  content,  as  Sommer  has  shown,  the  original 
French  is  only  a  compilation  of  medieval  material.  In  its  English 
form,  also,  it  harks  back  to  the  medieval  methods.  The  follow- 
ing stanza,  from  the  Wynkyn  de  Worde  edition,  however  excellent 
may  be  its  contents,  does  not  look  forward  to  the  great  work  of 
the  Renaissance:  ^ 

Fie  faynt  falsehode  bekell  foule'nd  fell 

Fie  fatall  flaterers  full  of  faymes 

Fie  fayre  faynynge  fabels  of  fauell 

Fie  folkes  felawshyp  frequentynge  falsenes 

Fie  frantyke  facers  fullfylled  of  frowardnes 

Fie  foles  falaces  /  fle  fonde  fantasycs 

Fie  from  fresshe  fablers  faynynge  flaterers. 

Consequently  in  this  also,  the  most  popular  of  the  French  importa- 
tions, there  is  nothing  of  contemporary  France. 

*  Sommer,  op.  ciK,  iii,  181. 


502  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Robert  Copland,  who  translated  the  Kalendar,  may  be  taken  as 
an  extreme  example  of  those  importing  French  influence.  Of  his 
life  really  nothing  is  known.  In  1535  he  was  one  of  the  executors 
of  the  will  of  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  and  in  1547  his  establishment  is 
spoken  of  as  "old  Robert  Copland's  the  eldest  printer  of  England."  ^ 
In  this  capacity  he  issued  only  twelve  books,  of  which  the  one  that 
is  interesting  to  literature  is  his  own  Eye  Way  to  the  Spytiel  Hous. 
But  it  is  worth  remarking  that  he  printed  Barclay's  Introductory 
to  French  and  that  his  earliest  device,  1515,  is  modelled  after  the 
French.  As  an  author  he  prepared  for  the  press  seventeen  works, 
twelve  of  which  are  translated  from  the  French.  He  may,  con- 
sequently, be  considered  as  one  of  the  main  channels.  Aside  from 
the  original  poems,  which  have  already  been  discussed,^  they  seem 
well  distributed  between  religious  works,  practical  treatises,  and 
books  of  popular  appeal.  There  are  three  romances.  And  proba- 
bly in  the  work  of  Copland  one  may  find  an  epitome  of  the  whole 
question.  In  English  prose  there  was  no  definite  movement  to 
imitate  French  culture,  as  there  was  in  English  verse  to  imitate 
Italian  forms,  or  in  English  thought  to  follow  German  leadership. 
The  two  nations  were  too  nearly  at  the  same  stage  of  cultivation 
to  have  England  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  France.  But  this  con- 
dition would  render  it  normal  that  a  book  popular  in  France  would 
be  translated  for  the  English  market,  no  matter  what  kind  of  book 
it  might  be.  And  in  the  early  efforts  of  the  press,  while  English 
writers  were  still  struggling  with  the  changing  language,  naturally 
printers  imported  French  successes.  The  condition  then  was  much 
as  it  is  today.  A  work  that  has  created  a  sensation  in  Paris  can 
usually  be  found  in  English  on  the  shelves  of  the  New  York  shops. 
It  is  after  all  a  matter  of  business.  But  the  books  that  were  to  be 
revered  in  the  coming  ages,  were  written  neither  in  French  nor  in 
English,  but  in  Latin.  They  were  written  in  Latin  to  appeal  to  a 
public  of  all  Europe.  The  obverse  of  this  is  that  those  books  writ- 
ten in  either  French,  or  English,  were  local,  to  appeal  especially 
to  the  less  thoughtful  of  the  two  nations.  Logically,  therefore, 
as  such  people  are  conservative,  the  vernacular  literature  is  ret- 

1  For  Robert  Copland,  cf.  Duff,  Century  of  the  English  Book  Trade,  H.  R.  Plomer, 
Handlists  of  the  English  Printers  (both  printed  for  the  Bibliographical  Society), 
and  H.  R.  Tedder  in  the  D.  N.  B. 

*  Hye  Way,  pp.  225-229;  Jyl  of  Brentford's  Testament,  pp.  431-433. 


DTFLUENCE  OF  CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE    503 

regressive.  As  the  two  nations  were  in  the  same  stage  of  develop- 
ment, so  also  neither  had  a  great  individual,  such  as  Martin  Luther, 
who  used  the  native  language  as  his  medium.  It  is  not  until  the 
time  of  Calvin  that  French  prose  has  an  appreciable  effect  upon 
English.*  For  the  early  authors,  the  influence  of  French  prose,  like 
the  influence  of  French  verse,  while  undoubtedly  existent,  is  un- 
doubtedly little. 

*  As  Calvin 's  influence  comes  at  the  end  of  the  period,  it  has  seemed  better  to 
postpone  it  for  a  later  study,  when  it  may  be  treated  consecutively. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HENRY  HOWARD,    EARL  OF  SURREY 

Up  to  the  period  of  the  second  literary  generation  of  the  writers 
of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII,  the  Uterature  is  easy  to  analyze  be- 
cause the  work  has  the  extreme  characteristics  that  mark  all  be- 
ginnings. The  change  in  the  language,  due  to  the  long  contin- 
uance of  civil  strife,  had  broken  the  literary  continuity.  The  works 
of  Chaucer  and  his  contemporaries  were  no  longer  available  as 
precedents.  Yet  the  social  stability  given  by  the  first  two  Tudor 
kings  stimulated  a  demand  for  literature.  Under  the  circumstan- 
ces those  that  wished  to  supply  this  demand  necessarily  experi- 
mented in  literary  forms,  each  choosing  that  form  most  consonant 
to  his  aims  and  his  predilection.  In  this  new  age  there  was  no  one 
dominant  literary  tradition.  Consequently  there  is  apparent  con- 
fusion. Books  were  written  contemporaneously  which  yet  de- 
pend upon  entirely  differeni  theories  and  to  judge  which  requires 
a  knowledge  of  entirely  different  literatures.  Such  a  statement 
may  seem  to  imply  that  it  was  a  critical  age,  an  age  in  which  there 
was  eager  discussion  of  literary  theory.  But  this  is  untrue.  Aside 
from  the  humanists  there  was  no  literary  propaganda, — and  with 
them  the  stress  was  upon  morality,  not  upon  literature.  As  in  the 
time  of  the  Judges,  each  man  did  what  was  right  in  his  own  eyes. 
Moreover,  as  each  wrote  according  to  his  natural  bent,  instead  of 
electing  one  literary  type  and  spurning  all  the  others,  actually  in 
his  work  he  may  show  the  result  of  two  quite  different  forces. 
This  is  quite  natural.  They  were  alive,  and,  being  alive,  each  was 
affected  in  varying  degrees  by  the  Uterary  impulses  of  his  age.  Yet 
in  each  author  one  (and  only  one)  impulse  is  major;  the  other  im- 
pulse, (or  other  impulses)  is  definitely  subordinated.  For  this  reason 
it  is  possible,  by  arranging  them  according  to  the  dominant  impulse, 
to  show  the  gradual  progress  and  modification  of  the  types.  But 
by  so  doing  a  judgment  is  passed  upon  them.  Great  writers  can- 
not be  listed  according  to  single  traits,  because  they  draw  from 

504 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  505 

a  diversified  past.  This  age,  then,  will  not  produce  great  litera- 
ture. With  the  exception  of  More  and  Skelton,  the  personality 
of  the  writer  seems  subordinated  to  the  form  in  which  he  writes, 
and  even  Skelton  cannot  control  his  medium.  The  reader  does 
not  feel  near  to  the  author;  the  latter 's  voice  seems  faint  and  far 
away.  He  cannot  make  his  form  express  himself.  This  is  be- 
cause the  age  was  one  of  beginnings.  Chaucer,  at  the  culmi- 
nation of  the  previous  period,  can  say  what  he  wishes;  Spenser,  at 
the  culmination  of  this  period,  can  say  what  he  wishes;  but  these 
men  in  the  rude  beginnings  of  art  necessarily  stammer.  It  is  the 
inevitable  penalty  of  youth.  The  age  does  not  reach  its  intellec- 
tual maturity  imtil  the  writers  of  the  second  half  of  the  reign,  writ- 
ers represented  for  us  by  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey. 

The  uncertainty  so  characteristic  of  all  our  knowledge  of  this 
period  finds  another  illustration  in  the  poems  of  Surrey.  Of  these, 
not  counting  the  translations  of  Vergil,  the  publication  of  which 
was  separate,  there  are  fifty-nine  pieces.  These  are  preserved  to 
us  by  Tottel  and  by  seven  manuscripts.^  Only  two  of  the  manu- 
scripts are  pre-Elizabethan  and  those  two  have  but  one  poem  each. 
All  told,  there  are  thirty-four  poems  in  the  manuscripts.  Unhap- 
pily the  manuscripts  do  not  completely  agree  with  one  another  for 
the  text,  nor  does  any  one  completely  agree  with  Tottel.  In  them 
there  are  found  poems  not  in  Tottel,  and  one  in  Tottel  that  is 
assigned  to  "Uncertain  Authors."  It  is  to  be  remembered  that 
as  Tottel  in  1557  printed  the  contents  of  a  commonplace  book, 
probably  like  that  in  the  British  Museum  Add.  365!^9,  the  author- 
ity of  his  text  depends  upon  the  accuracy  of  an  entirely  unknown 
compiler.  On  the  other  hand,  as  the  manuscripts  that  furnish  the 
majority  of  the  poems  are  late,  they  equally  depend  upon  unknown 
compilers.  By  comparison  with  the  autograph  manuscript  of 
Wyatt  we  know  that  Tottel's  text  is  far  from  being  accurate. 
Therefore  the  presumption  is  that  the  same  is  the  case  with  his 
text  of  Surrey.  The  manuscripts  which  contiiin  poems  of  Wyatt 
and  may  therefore  be  tested  are  only  slightly  more  accurate  than 
Tottel.  The  result  is  that  in  Surrey's  text  we  have  only  an  ap- 
proximation. Each  poem,  consequently,  requires  careful  dis- 
cussion.    But  however  faulty  may  be  the  text  of  Tottel,  it  will 

*  Tottel's  Miscellany  we  have  in  .\rber'9  Reprint.  The  auinuscript  poeou  have 
been  reprinted  by  Professor  Padelford  in  Anglic,  xxix,  3. 


506  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

always  be  important  because  through  it  the  Elizabethan  age 
knew  Surrey.  It  was  reprinted  nine  times  before  the  end  of  the 
century. 

It  may  be  even  due  to  Tottel's  publication  that  in  the  last  half 
of  the  century  Surrey  was  regarded  as  the  great  poet  of  the  former 
age.  The  title-page  of  the  Miscellany  reads  Songes  and  SonetteSy 
vyritten  by  the  ryght  honorable  Lorde  Henry  Haward  late  Earle  of 
Surrey,  and  other.  Although  the  only  other  author  named  in  full  in 
the  second  edition  is  Wyatt,  apparently  he  is  considered  secondary. 
They  are  usually  bracketed  together,  and  Surrey  is  usually  given 
the  precedence, — so  often  in  fact  that  the  curious  error  arose  that 
Wyatt  was  Surrey's  disciple.  The  most  extreme  illustration  of 
Wyatt's  eclipse  by  Surrey  is  given  by  Sidney :  * 

For  there  being  two  principal!  parts,  Matter  to  be  expressed  by  words,  and  words 
to  expresse  the  matter:  In  neither,  wee  use  Art  or  imitation  rightly  .  .  .  Chawcer 
undoubtedly  did  excellently  in  his  Troilus  and  Creseid:  of  whome  trulie  I  knowe  not 
whether  to  mervaile  more,  either  that  hee  in  that  mistie  time  could  see  so  clearly 
or  that  wee  in  this  cleare  age,  walke  so  stumblingly  after  him.  Yet  had  hee  great 
wants,  fit  to  be  forgiven  in  so  reverent  an  Antiquitie.  I  account  the  Mirrour  of 
Magistrates,  meetly  furnished  of  bewtiful  partes.  And  in  the  Earle  of  Surreis 
Lirickes,  manie  thinges  tasting  of  a  Noble  minde.  The  Sheepheards  Kalendar, 
hath  much  poetrie  in  his  Egloges,  .  .  Besides  these,  I  doo  not  remember  to  have 
seen  but  fewe  (to  speak  boldly)  printed,  that  have  poeticall  sinnewes  in 
them. 

Chaucer,  Surrey,  presumably  Sackville  and  Spenser,  those  four 
names  to  Sidney  are  the  only  ones  that  have  poetical  sinews.  The 
list  is  extraordinary  for  its  omissions.  As  to  him  Chaucer  is  the 
sole  representative  of  Middle  English,  Surrey  is  the  only  survivor 
of  the  literature  of  the  first  half  of  the  century.*  It  is  a  fair  state- 
ment that  where  Wyatt  is  remembered,  as  in  Ascham  and  Putten- 
ham,  he  is  subordinated  to  Surrey,  and  that  very  many  did  not 
remember  him  at  all.  Surrey  is  the  principal  figure  of  the  past 
age. 

As  the  respect  for  caste  was  great  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  such 
valuation  of  his  poetry  may  have  been  due,  to  some  extent  at 

^  The  Defence  of  Poesie.  By  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  Knight.  Printed  at  the  University 
Press,  Cambridge.  1904,  p.  71. 

'  Wyatt  is  also  omitted  from  the  list  of  writers  given  by  Webbe,  A  Discourae 
of  English  Poetrie,  1586,  Arber's  Reprint,  S3. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  507 

least,  to  his  rank.  He  belonged  to  the  family  which  in  Pope's  lines 
was  to  become  synonymous  with  noble  blood. ^  The  fortunes  of 
the  family  were  founded  early  in  the  fifteenth  century  by  the  mar- 
riage of  Robert  Howard  with  the  Lady  Margaret  Mowbray,  in 
whose  veins  was  blood  royal.  By  her  father,  she  was  descended 
from  Edward  the  First  and  Margaret  of  France;  by  her  mother, 
from  Edward  the  First  and  Elinor  of  Castile.  On  the  extinction 
of  the  Mowbrays,  John,  the  son  of  Robert,  was  created  Duke  of 
Norfolk  by  Richard  III  in  1483.  He  married  twice.  By  the  first 
wife  he  had  Thomas,  the  second  Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  four  daugh- 
ters who  all  married;  by  the  second,  one  daughter  Catherine,  who 
married  John  Bourchier,  Lord  Berners,  the  translator.  This 
Thomas,  the  second  Duke  of  Norfolk,  the  grandfather  of  Surrey, 
married  twice  and  had  eleven  children.  As  these  intermarried  with 
the  great  noble  families,  Surrey  was  thus  closely  related  to  many  in 
the  English  court.  Of  these  the  important  ones  are  (besides  his 
father) :  Edward,  the  English  admiral  whose  gallant  death  in  1513  is 
celebrated  by  Barclay  in  the  Fourth  Eclogue;  Edmund,  the  father  of 
Catherine,  the  fifth  wife  of  Henry  VIII;  and  Elizabeth,  the  mother 
of  Anne  Boleyn  the  second  wife  of  Henry  VIII.  Surrey's  father, 
Thomas,  the  third  Duke  of  Norfolk,  married  first  the  Lady  Anne, 
the  daughter  of  Edward  IV  and  sister  of  Elizabeth  the  Queen  of 
Henry  VII.  On  her  decease  he  married  Lady  Elizabeth  Stafford, 
the  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  bore  him  three 
children;  Henry  the  poet,  Thomas,  and  Mary.  Thus  on  his  moth- 
er's side  he  was  descended  from  Edward  III;  his  grandmother  was 
a  daughter  of  the  Percys;  his  uncle  had  married  the  daughter  of 
Margaret  Pole,  countess  of  Salisbury;  one  aunt,  Ralph  Neville, 
earl  of  Westmorland,  and  the  other,  George  Neville,  Lord  Aber- 
gavenny. In  fact  he  was  so  close  to  the  throne  that  it  was  ru- 
mored that  he  was  to  marry  the  princess  Mary,  daughter  of  Henry 
VIII  and  Katherine  of  Aragon,  who  later  became  queen.  He  was 
the  close  friend  of  Henry,  Duke  of  Richmond,  the  King's  illegiti- 
mate son,  who  married  his  sister  Mary.  By  his  descent  and  by  his 
family  connections  he  was  the  greatest  noble  of  his  generation, 
and  his  ancestry  compared  very  favorably  even  with  that  of  tlie 
prince  of  Wales,  whose  descent  on  the  father's  side  was  scarcely 

*  What  can  ennoble  sots,  or  slaves,  or  cowards? 
Alas!  not  all  the  blood  of  all  the  Howards.    Essay  on  Man,  Epistle  IV. 


508  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

better  than  Surrey's  own  and  whose  mother  was  the  comparatively- 
obscure  Jane  Seymour. 

An  appreciation  of  the  state  of  life  to  which  Surrey  was  called  by 
his  birth  is  all  important  in  understanding  his  character  and  the 
events  of  his  life.  There  is  no  necessity  of  recounting  the  latter 
here.^  It  is  enough  to  state  that  we  know  a  very  great  many  facts 
concerning  bis  various  actions  through  the  years,  and  from  them 
can  infer  fairly  accurately  his  character.  Another  factor,  however, 
must  be  mentioned.  The  Howards  were  in  somewhat  straightened 
circumstances.  Naturally,  as  the  first  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  his  son 
had  fought  on  the  side  of  Richard  III  at  Bosworth  Field,  the  sur- 
vivor, the  second  Duke,  was  promptly  lodged  in  the  Tower  and  his 
goods  attainted.  Although  Henry  VII  pardoned  him,  freed  him, 
and  eventually  restored  him  to  his  rank,  he  did  not  restore  the 
property  that  went  to  sustain  the  rank.  Although  Henry  VIII 
was  much  more  lavish  in  their  regard,  yet  as  their  expenses  in- 
creased proportionally  to  their  honors,  the  family  was  financially 
embarrassed.  In  1515  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  admittedly  the  ablest 
general  in  England  and  the  victor  of  Flodden  Field,  was  forced  to 
retire  from  court  to  recuperate.  This  condition  explains  the  finan- 
cial negotiations  which  they  dignified  by  the  name  of  marriage. 
Love  was  no  more  a  factor  in  the  marriage  of  the  sixteenth  century 
than  in  the  royal  alliances  of  today.^  Surrey's  mother,  for  example, 
who  brought  a  dowry  of  1500  pounds,  had  previously  been  engaged 
to  Ralph  Neville  (who  afterwards  married  her  sister,)  was  much 
attached  to  him,  and  their  wedding  day  had  been  announced.' 
All  this  was  not  allowed  to  interfere  with  her  nuptials  with  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk.  Such  a  beginning  would  scarcely  argue  for  happy 
connubial  relations.  And  historical  events  did  not  tend  to  in- 
crease the  chance.  In  1523  her  father,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  was 
condemned  for  high  treason  by  a  panel  of  peers,  of  which  her 
father-in-law  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  was  chief  judge.    The  fact  that 

*  Owing  to  his  high  rank  Surrey  figures  largely  in  the  State  Papers,  which  have 
been  published.  Basing  upon  those  entries  and  supplementing  them  by  outside 
reference,  M.  Edmond  Bapst  has  constructed  a  detailed  life  of  Surrey,  in  Deux 
Gentilahommes-Poctes  de  la  Gourde  Henry  VIII,  Paris  1891.  This  is  the  authority 
for  Sir  Sidney  Lee's  article  in  the  D.  N.  B.  There  is  an  excellent  digest  in  FlUgel's 
Lesebuch,  op.  cil.,  382. 

*Cf.  pp.  20-21. 

*  Letter  to  Cromwell,  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  October  27,  1537. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  509 

"the  Duke  of  Northfolke  wept"  ^  probably  did  not  compensate 
for  the  triviality  of  the  charges  on  which  her  father  was  put  to 
death,  nor  for  the  fact  that  the  presiding  judge  was  recompensed  by 
part  of  the  sequestered  property.  But  at  this  time  she  had,  also,  a 
more  personal  grievance  against  her  husband.  He  took  to  himself  a 
concubine,  an  Elizabeth  Holland,  a  relative  of  Lord  Hussey.  Li 
spite  of  the  fact  that  "she  was  butt  washer  of  my  nursery  VIH 
yeres,"  ^  when  the  Duchess  objected,^ 

"They  bound  me  and  pynnaculled  me  and  satt  on  my  brest  tyll  I  spitt  blod, 
which  I  have  ben  worse  for  ever  syns;  and  all  for  speking  gainst  the  woman  in 
the  Courte,  Bess  Holand.  Therefore  he  put  me  out  at  the  doors  and  kepys  the 
bawd  and  the  harlots  styll  in  his  house." 

Li  a  later  letter  she  is  still  more  explicit:  ^ 

"He  sett  hys  women  to  bynde  me,  tyll  blod  came  out  att  my  fingars  endes,  and 
(they)  pynnacullyt  me  and  satt  on  my  brest  tyll  I  spett  blod  and  he  never  ponyshed 
them,  and  all  thys  was  done  for  Besse  Holond's  sake." 

It  is  quite  possible,  as  Bapst  suggests,^  that  the  Duchess  in  these 
accounts  is  drawing  the  long  bow.  She  seems  to  have  been  an 
extremely  high-spirited  lady,  much  given  to  speaking  her  mind 
very  frankly.  Her  remarks  to  Anne  Boleyn,  when  the  favorite 
opposed  the  marriage  of  Mary  Howard  to  the  Count  of  Derby,  were 
such  that  she  narrowly  avoided  being  banished  from  the  Court.* 
In  1534  the  definite  rupture  came,  because  she  discharged  from  her 
service  the  father  of  the  lady  in  question  and  all  connected  with 
her.  As  the  Duke  took  the  part  of  the  servants,  the  Duchess  re- 
tired to  Redboum  on  a  pension.  That  she  was  justified  from  the 
modem  standpoint  is  clear,  since  in  1537,  until  the  imprisonment 
of  the  Duke,  Elizabeth  Holland  was  installed  at  Kenninghall  under 

» HaU's  Henry  VIII,  ed.  Whibley,  op.  eU.,  1,  225. 
»  Letter  to  Cromwell,  December  SO,  1530. 

*  Letter  to  Cromwell,October  24,  1537. 

*  Letter  to  Cromwell,  June  26,  1538. 

*  Bapst,  oj>.  cit.,  207:  "Les  scenes  de  violence  dont,  d  en  croire  ses  lettres,  la  Du- 
chesse  aurait  6te  victime  L  ce  moment  de  la  part  de  sea  domestiques,  ne  se  sont 
tr^  probablement  jamais  pas^  que  dans  son  imagination,  ou  tout  au  moins,  s'il 
y  a  dans  sea  rdcits  une  part  de  v6rit6,  elle  est  assez  restreinte." 

'  Chapuis  to  the  Emperor,  October  15, 1530,  quoted  by  Bapst,  op.  cit.,  199  (note). 


510  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

the  pretext  of  being  lady-in-waiting  to  Mary  Howard,  at  that  time 
the  widowed  Duchess  of  Richmond.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that 
Surrey  and  his  sister  took  the  side  of  their  father,  the  Duke,  in  this 
family  quarrel,  even  to  the  extent  of  receiving  the  cause  of  it  in  the 
place  of  their  own  mother.  Whatever  may  be  the  difference  of 
opinion  in  regard  to  the  principals  in  the  affair,  there  can  be  no 
question  of  the  imfortunate  results  to  the  children.  The  "home- 
life"  at  Kenninghall  could  not  have  been  conventionally  "sweet." 
Later  it  bore  its  inevitable  fruit.  One  of  the  most  telling  witnesses 
against  Surrey,  when  he  was  accused  of  high  treason,  was  his  own 
sister,  the  widow  of  his  best  friend.  She  deposed, — and  it  was  con- 
firmed by  another  witness, — that,  when  it  was  a  question  of  her 
marriage  with  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  Surrey  had  advised  her  to  use 
the  marriage  as  a  step  to  becoming  the  mistress  of  the  king.^ 
"  Cette  sanglante  ironic"  Bapst  calls  it.^  Perhaps  it  was  irony, — 
at  least  one  wishes  to  believe  it, — ^but  the  previous  events  in  the 
family  life  scarcely  tend  to  make  one  confident.  At  least  her  fur- 
ther testimony  that  Surrey  had  placed  a  cipher  upon  his  coat-of- 
arms  that  resembled  HR  shows  that  she  for  one  placed  the  worst 
interpretation  and  bore  him  a  bitter  hatred.^  In  our  necessary 
ignorance,  it  seems  rather  useless  first  to  impute  motives  and  then 
to  explain  by  them.  Yet  surely  the  inference  is  justifiable  that  the 
family  life  of  the  Howards  was  not  happy.  In  spite  of  the  Duke's 
experience,  gained  from  his  own  mercenary  marriage,  acting  by  the 
direction  of  Anne  Boleyn  he  married  Surrey,  February  13,  1532, 
to  Lady  Frances  de  Vere,  daughter  of  the  Count  of  Oxford,  for  2500 
pounds.  In  Surrey's  case,  however,  the  union  seems  to  have  been 
productive  of  happiness.  The  additional  money  was  gratefully 
received. 

This  union  of  very  high  rank  and  comparative  poverty  accen- 

*  Froude  (Chapter  XXIII,  The  Reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth)  gives  the  deposition 
infuU. 

'  Bapst,  oj).  cii.,  839. 

'  Miss  Forwell,  op.  cit.,  i,  76  notes  on  Wyatt's  poem  A  face  thai  shvld  content 
me:  "This  description  of  a  woman  is  the  only  one  in  Wiat.  Constant  to  his  rule, 
he  gives  ns  no  portrait,  but  rather  a  character  sketch.  Honest  and  sincere  himself, 
with  a  deep  scorn  of  anything  false  or  inconstant,  his  ideal  of  a  woman  is  displayed 
here  in  strength  of  character  and  gravity  of  thought,  a  cheerful,  sympathetic 
and  graceful  woman.  Mary,  Duchess  of  Richmond,  'Maiden-wife,  and  widow', 
possessed  the  qualities  he  admired."    Comment  would  be  unkind ! 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  511 

tuated  in  Surrey  the  arrogance  inherited  from  his  mother.  He  was 
"the  most  foHsh  prowde  boye  that  ys  in  England."  ^  When  he 
was  accused  by  Sir  Richard  Southwell,  his  answer  was  an  appeal 
to  the  judgment  of  God  by  means  of  a  boxing  match !  ^  He  refuted 
another  witness  by  merely  saying  "  I  leave  it  to  yourselves,  Gentle- 
men, to  judge  whether  it  were  probable  that  this  man  should  speak 
thus  to  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  and  he  not  strike  him."  Holinshed 
comments  "had  he  tempered  his  answers  with  such  modesty  as  he 
shewed  token  of  a  right  perfect,  and  ready  wit,  his  praise  had  been 
the  greater."  ^  But  such  a  temperament  is  very  rarely  modest, 
and  it  does  lead  to  blows.  In  1542  he  had  quarreled  with  an 
unknown  John  d  Leigh,  and  he  was  released  only  on  a  bond  that 
he  would  not  molest  that  gentleman.  But  he  figures  in  another 
scrape  that  has  some  literary  importance.  On  the  second  of 
February,  1543,  Surrey  in  company  with  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  the 
younger,  the  son  of  the  poet,  and  a  William  Pickering  anticipated 
the  eighteenth  century  Mohocks  by  a  night  raid  upon  London. 
As  the  citizens  failed  to  find  amusement  in  the  performance,  in- 
quiry led  to  a  certain  Mistress  Arundel  of  St.  Laurence-Lane.  On 
being  summoned  before  the  Privy  Council  she  confessed  that  Sur- 
rey and  other  young  noblemen  used  her  house."* 

Further,  she  saith,  how  at  Candlemas  they  went  out  with  stone  bows  at  nine 
o'clock  at  night,  and  did  not  come  back,  till  past  midnight,  and  the  next  day  there 
was  a  great  clamour  of  the  breaking  of  many  glass  windows  both  of  houses  and 
churches,  and  shooting  at  men  that  night  in  the  street;  and  the  voice  was  that  those 
hurts  were  done  by  my  lord  and  his  company.  Whereupon  she  gave  commandment 
unto  all  her  house  that  they  should  say  nothing  of  my  lord's  going  out  in  form 
specified.  Item,  she  said,  that  that  night  or  the  night  before  they  used  the  same 
stone  bows,  rowing  on  the  Thames;  and  Thomas  Clear  told  her  how  they  shot  at 
the  queans  on  the  Bankside.  Mistress  Arundel  also,  looking  one  day  at  Lord 
Surrey's  arms,  said  the  arms  were  very  like  the  king's  arms,  and  said  further,  she 
thought  he  would  be  king,  if  aught  but  good  happened  to  the  king  and  prince. 

The  inquiry  dragged  along  until  the  first  of  April.* 

^  A  Memorial  Jrom  George  Constantyne  to  Thomas  Lord  CromioeU,  Archasologia, 
xxiii,  62. 

*  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury  's  account  is  based  on  documents  now  lost 

*  Both  quoted  from  Nott,  op.  cit.,  cii. 

*  These  passages  are  accessible  in  Froude,  op.  eit..  Chapter  XX. 

*  AcU  of  the  Privy  Council,  Bapst,  op.  cit.,  268. 


512  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Att  Saint-James  the  first  day  off  aprill  .  .  .  Th'erle  of  Surrey  being  sent  for 
t'appere  before  the  Cownsell  was  charged  as  well  off  eating  off  flesshe,  as  off  a 
lewde  and  unsemely  manner  of  walking  in  the  night  abowght  the  stretes  and  break- 
ing with  stonebows  off  certeyne  wyndowes.  And  towching  the  eating  off  flesshe, 
he  alleged  a  license,  albeitt  he  hadde  nott  so  secretly  used  the  same  as  apparteyned. 
And  towching  the  stonebows,  he  cowlde  nott  denye  butt  he  hadde  verye  evyll 
done  therein,  submitting  himselff  therefore  to  such  ponissement  as  sholde  to  them 
be  thowght  good.    Whereapon  he  was  committed  to  the  Fleet. 

Clearly  we  have  here  a  drunken  frolic  in  which  the  opposition  of 
the  City  and  the  Court  comes  to  the  fore.  It  is  the  sort  of  senseless 
vandalism  common  half  a  century  ago  in  our  American  colleges 
and  manifested  in  the  town  and  gown  riots.  But  however  objec- 
tionable may  have  been  this  lewd  and  unseemly  manner  of  walking, 
it  is  impossible  to  regard  it  seriously.  Rightfully  he  was  sent  to  the 
Fleet  to  realize  that  the  London  citizen  also  had  rights.  Presum- 
ably while  there,  he  composed  his  absurd  explanation  of  the 
affair.^ 

London,  hast  thow  accused  me 

Of  breche  of  lawes  the  roote  of  stryfe, 

within  whose  brest  did  boyle  to  see 

(so  fervent  hotte)  thy  dissolute  lief 

that  even  the  hate  of  synnes  that  groo 

within  thy  wicked  walles  so  rife 

ffor  to  breale  forthe  did  convert  soo 

that  terrour  colde  it  not  represse 

the  which  by  worde*  syns  prechers  knoo 

what  hope  is  le(f)t  for  to  redresse 

by  vnknowne  meanes  it  liked  me 

my  hydden  burden  to  expresse 

wherby  yt  might  appere  to  the 

that  secret  synn  hath  secret  spight 

ffrom  lustice  rodd  no  fault  is  free 

but  that  all  such  as  wourkes  vnright 

In  most  quyet  are  next  ill  rest 

In  secret  sylence  of  the  night 

this  made  me  with  a  reckles  brest 

to  wake  thy  sluggarde*  with  my  bowe 

A  fygure  of  the  lordea  behest 

whose  scourge  for  synn  the  sc(r)eptures  shew 

that  as  the  fearfull  thonder  clapp 

1  The  text  is  given  in  MS.  Add.  86529.  It  is  also  found  in  Add.  MS.  28635,  but 
not  in  Tottel. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  51S 

by  soddayne  flame  as  hand  we  knowe 

oi  peoble  stones  the  sowndles  rapp 

the  dredfull  plage  might  mak  the  see 

of  godde*  wrath  that  doth  the  enwrapp 

that  pryde  might  know  from  conscience  free 

how  loftye  worker  may  her  defend 

and  envye  fynd  as  he  hath  sought 

how  other  seke  him  to  offend 

and  wrath  tast  of  eche  crewell  thought 

that  iust  shapp  hyer  in  the  end 

and  ydell  slouthe  that  never  wrought 

th  heven  hys  spirite  lift  may  begyn 

&  gredye  lucre  ly  ve  in  dred 

to  see  what  hfiste  ill  gott  goode«  wynn 

the  lechers  ye  that  lustea  do  feed 

pCT-ceve  what  secrecye  is  in  synne 

and  gluttons  hartes  for  sorow  blede 

awaked  when  their  faulte  they  fynd 

In  lothsome  vyce  eche  dronken  wight 

to  styrr  to  godd  this  was  my  mynd 

thy  wyndowes  had  don  me  no  spight 

but  prowd  people  that  drede  no  fall 

clothed  with  falshed  and  vnright 

bred  in  the  closures  of  thy  wall 

but  wrested  to  wrathe  in  fervent  zeale 

thow  hast  to  strief  my  secret  call 

endured  h&rtes  no  warning  feale 

Oh  shameles  hore  is  dred  then  gone 

by  suche  thy  foes  as  ment  thy  weale 

Oh  membre  of  false  Babylon 

the  shopp  of  craft,  the  denn6  of  ire 

thy  dredfull  dome  drawes  fast  vppon 

thy  martyres  blood  by  swoord  &  fyre 

In  heaven  &  earth  for  lustice  call 

the  lord  shall  here  their  iust  desyre 

the  flame  of  wrath  shall  on  the  fall 

witA  famyne  and  pest  lamentablie 

stricken  shalbe  they  lecherc*  all 

they  prowd  towers  and  turret**  hye 

enmyes  to  god  beat  stone  from  stone 

thyne  IdoUca  burnt  that  wrought  iniquitie 

when  none  thy  ruyne  shall  bemonc 

but  render  vnto  the  right  wise  lord 

that  so  hath  iudgcd  Babylon 

Imortall  praise  witA  one  accord 

ffynls  H.  S. 


514  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Whether  the  Fleet  served  its  purpose  in  causing  repentance  is  open 
to  question.  Surrey  could  not  deny  but  he  had  very  evil  done, — 
but  remained  an  unrepentant  sinner.  To  him  the  psalm-singing 
money-loving  citizen  was  beneath  contempt.  So  his  poem  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  injured  party  is  insulting  both  in  matter 
and  in  manner.  He  defends  himself  by  attacking.  London  is  so 
evil  that  it  should  be  shocked  to  an  appreciation  of  its  sins.  And 
this  paradox  is  phrased  in  a  careful  parody  of  the  reforming 
manner. 

Oh  member  of  false  Babylon ! 
The  shop  of  craft!    The  den  of  ire! 
Thy  dreadful  doom  draws  fast  upon! 
Thy  martyr's  blood  by  sword  and  fire 
In  Heaven  and  earth  for  justice  call ! 

Of  course,  a  jeu  d'esprit  must  not  be  taken  too  seriously;  it  betrays 
a  lack  of  humor.  Yet,  the  piece  is  distinctly  clever.  As  the  City 
by  its  trade  relations  with  the  continent  was  the  stronghold  of 
Lutheranism,  to  apply  to  it  the  opprobrious  name  applied  by  the 
Lutherans  to  the  Roman  Church  is  a  neat  distortion.^  And  the 
"martyrs"  were  the  poor  courtiers,  such  as  Surrey  himself  and 
young  Wyatt,  persecuted  by  the  demons  in  the  City,  merely  be- 
cause they  shot  at  them  with  cross-bows !  But  the  literary  signifi- 
cance of  this  is  great.  At  once  the  reader  is  conscious  of  a  note 
that  has  not  been  sounded  in  English  poetry  since  Chaucer.  There 
is  a  lightness  of  touch  in  the  fooling  that  implies  a  mastery  of 
the  medium,  that  tells  that  the  long  apprenticeship  of  English 
literature  is  now  over. 

The  last  lines  of  this  satire  are  also  important  since  they  have 
been  quoted  to  show  that  Surrey  was  at  heart  in  favor  of  the  Refor- 
mation.^ Irony  is  a  dangerous  tool  that  is  apt  to  turn  in  the  wield- 
er's  hand  and  cut  him.  So  Defoe  found  in  the  Shortest  Way  with 
Dissenters.    So  with  Surrey  here.    He  naturally  by  his  birth  be- 

^  Of  course  there  is  no  parallelism  with  Petrarch 's  sonnets  against  Avignon, 
as  Nott  suggests,  because  Petrarch  was  not  attacking  the  city  of  Avignon  but  the 
papal  court  located  there.  Petrarch's  "Babylon"  and  Surrey's  "Babylon"  are 
two  entirely  different  things.    By  1542  London  had  no  connection  with  the  papacy. 

*  There  is  also  an  ambiguous  remark  of  George  Barlow,  Dean  of  Westburj", 
quoted  by  Constantyne  {op.  cit.),  and  the  fact  that  Surrey  translated  the  Psalms, 
a  proof  that  Aretino  also  was  a  Protestant. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  515 

longed  to  the  other  party,  of  which  his  father  the  Duke  of  Norfolk 
was  the  recognized  leader.^  It  was  Norfolk  who  introduced  the  Bill 
of  Six  Articles  to  the  House  when  not  even  Cranmer  dared  argue 
against  it.  The  whole  political  complexion  of  the  reign  is  deter- 
mined by  the  opposition  of  the  party  of  the  old  nobility,  of  which 
Norfolk  was  necessarily  a  member,  and  the  "  new  men,"  due  to  the 
influence  of  the  various  queens.  Each  queen  may  be  regarded  as  a 
counter  signifying  what  political  party  had  at  that  moment  the 
control,  although  Anne  Boleyn,  as  a  niece  of  the  Howards,  con- 
fuses the  issue;  in  general,  as  through  her  Henry  was  led  to  break 
with  the  Papacy,  she  may  be  considered  as  representing  the  Protes- 
tants. Still  more  Protestant  was  Jane  Seymour,  and  her  relatives. 
As  uncles  of  the  heir  to  the  throne,  in  spite  of  their  lack  of  high 
rank,  they  naturally  became  important.  Also  they  were  antago- 
nists of  the  older  order.  This  is  the  explanation  for  the  Howards' 
hatred  of  Cromwell.  His  downfall  was  a  triumph  for  them, — a 
triumph  which  they  consolidated  by  the  marriage  of  Katharine 
Howard  to  the  King,  a  triumph  which  was  fleeting  and  fatal. 
Towards  the  last,  across  the  body  of  the  King,  the  two  parties 
glared  at  each  other.  The  King  was  dying.  The  question  upper- 
most was  who  should  control  the  young  Prince.  Surrey  naturally 
thought  that  his  own  father  was  the  proper  person,  but  he  was  im- 
prudent in  giving  expression  to  his  thought.  Passion  was  running 
high.  When  Surrey  told  one  of  the  other  faction  that  Norfolk 
should  be  the  governor,  he  was  answered  "rather  than  it  should 
come  to  pass  that  the  prince  should  be  under  the  governance  of  his 
father  or  you,  I  would  bide  the  adventure  to  thrust  this  dagger  in 
you."  ^  Norfolk  was  playing  safe,  but  Surrey  had  the  reckless 
spirit  of  youth.  Of  course  the  end  came.  On  the  trivial  charge  of 
quartering  the  arms  with  his  own,  Surrey  was  tried  and  found 
guilty  of  high  treason.  There  is  no  need  to  go  into  the  evidence  of 
the  trial.  The  technical  indictment  was  merely  technical.  If  it  had 
not  been  that  charge  it  would  have  been  another.  Nor  is  it  of  value 
to  discuss  it  in  terms  of  murder  and  bemoan  Surrey's  innocence. 
With  the  morality  of  the  age  it  is  quite  possible  that  the  Howards 
on  their  side  had  contemplated  some  such  move.     The  sixteenth 

*  See  the  quotation  from  both  Romanists  and  Reformers  cited  by  Bapst,  op. 
cit..  161. 

'  Froude,  Chapter  xxiii.      There  \a  some  slip  in  the  use  of  the  pronouns. 


516  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

century  is  the  sixteenth  century;  it  is  useless  to  apply  twentieth 
century  conceptions  as  explanations  of  events  then.  The  fact 
is  that  on  the  19th  of  January,  1547,  there  was  beheaded  on  Tower 
Hill  the  most  brilliant,  the  most  spectacular,  the  most  cultivated 
noble  in  England,  in  the  last  analysis  because  he  was  descended 
from  kings. 

By  the  facts  of  his  life  Surrey  is  a  romantic  figure;  it  needed  very 
little  to  make  of  him  a  figure  in  a  romance.  Two  generations  later 
this  was  done  by  Thomas  Nash  in  his  novel  The  Unfortunate  Trav- 
eller, or  the  Life  of  lacke  Wilton.^  The  hero,  encountering  the  Earl 
of  Surrey  in  Holland,  where  Cornelius  Agrippa  shows  him  a  like- 
ness of  his  love  Geraldine  in  a  mirror,  travels  to  Italy  with  him  and 
enjoys  the  tournament  held  by  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  in 
which  Surrey  sustains  the  honor  of  his  lady  against  all  comers. 
This  yarn  apparently  was  made  up  out  of  whole  cloth.^  Nash's 
novel  has  had  the  exceptional  record  of  having  been  accepted  as 
fact  by  scholars  of  repute  for  two  centuries.  It  was  accepted  by 
Drayton  and  endorsed  by  Warton.  When  Nott  published  his 
great  edition  of  Surrey  in  1815,  as  in  the  case  of  Wyatt,  he  was 
strongly  stirred  by  the  whole  romantic  storj'.  From  Nott  inevi- 
tably it  spread  broadcast.  It  may  be  disproved,  as  does  Courthope, 
by  showing  the  inconsistencies  in  the  dating, — very  large  inconsis- 
tencies,— or  as  does  Bapst  by  proving  that  in  Surrey 's  record  there 
is  no  time-interval  sufficient  to  allow  any  series  of  such  events. 
Today,  surely,  there  is  no  necessity  for  more  than  a  bare  state- 
ment.   The  basis  of  the  story  is  to  be  found  in  the  sonnet. 

Ffrom  Tuscan  cam  my  ladies  worthi  race 
faire  flBorence  was  sometime  her  auncient  seate 
the  westorne  He  (whose  pleasaunt  showre  doth  face 
wylde  Chambares  differ)  did  geve  her  ly vely  heate 
ffostred  she  was  with  mylke  of  Irishe  brest 
her  Syer  (an)  erle,  hir  dame,  of  princca  bloud 
from  tender  yeres  in  britaine  she  doth  rest 
with  a  kinge*  child  where  she  tastaj  gostly  foode 
honsdon  did  furst  present  her  to  myn  eyen 
bryght  ys  her  hew  and  Geraldine  shee  highte 

*  Entered  in  the  Stationers'  Register  xvii  mo  die  Septembris  (1593). 

*  Mr.  Berthold  Clifford  was  unable  to  find  any  growth  of  such  a  legend  in  Eng- 
lish, when  he  made  the  search  for  me. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  517 

Hampton  me  tawght  to  wishe  her  furst  for  myne 
and  windesor  alas  doth  chace  me  from  her  sight 
bewty  of  kind,  her  vertues  from  a  bove 
happy  ys  he,  that  may  obtaine  her  love.    S.  H.  ^ 

"  Geraldine, "  the  Lady  Elizabeth  Fitzgerald,  the  daughter  of  the 
Earl  of  Kildare,  was  bom  1528  (?)  in  Ireland.  In  1533  she  was 
brought  to  England  and  in  1537  she  is  listed  among  the  attend- 
ants of  the  Princess  Elizabeth  at  Hunsdon.  In  the  spring  of  the 
same  year  she  accompanied  the  little  princess  to  Hampton  Court. 
At  this  time  she  could  not  have  been  more  than  ten  years  old.  Sur- 
rey certainly  was  then  in  attendance  on  the  Court,  because  his  quick 
temper  involved  him  in  a  quarrel,  of  which  we  have  the  record. 
In  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  had  joined  his  father  in  suppressing  the 
rebellion,  called  "The  Pilgrimage  of  Grace,"  Lord  Darcy  before  his 
execution  had  intimated  that  Surrey  was  favorable  to  the  rebels.^ 
When  a  courtier  '  repeated  this  rumor,  Surrey  struck  him,  forget- 
ting that,  as  he  was  within  the  royal  precincts,  he  rendered  himself 
by  so  doing  liable  to  the  amputation  of  one  hand.  Although  the 
motive  of  the  trouble  is  doubtful,  the  correspondence  between  Nor- 
folk and  Cromwell  leaves  no  doubt  of  the  fact.  The  pleading  of  his 
father  was  successful;  Surrey  was  punished  only  by  being  paroled  to 
Windsor, — a  very  great  mitigation  to  the  punishment  as  he  must 
have  been  released  before  November  12th,  when  he  was  present  at 
the  funeral  of  Jane  Seymour.  On  March  10th,  1538,  his  first  son, 
Thomas,  was  bom  and  on  February  24th,  1539,  his  second  son, 
Henry.  And  according  to  the  records  this  is  the  only  time  after 
1537  when  the  twelfth  line  of  the  sonnet  is  applicable.  Under  the 
circumstances  it  is  quite  clear  that  we  have  here  the  fancy  of  a 
lively  lad  of  nineteen  pleasuring  a  little  girl.  To  read  in  it  the  his- 
tory of  a  great  passion  posits  an  abnormal  precocity  on  the  part  of 
Geraldine.*  Aside  from  the  romantic  tradition  there  are  no  facts 
to  support  it. 

»  Add.  MS.  86529  and  in  Tottel. 

*  This  is  Bapst's  interpretation  of  Norfolk's  letter  to  Cromwell  (Calendar  of 
State  Papers,  xi,  no.  21). 

'  If  this  were  one  of  the  Seymours,  as  Bapst  suggests,  it  would  partly  explain 
Surrey's  hatred  of  them. 

*  The  ninth  line  of  the  sonnet.  The  golden  gift  that  nature  did  thee  give,  in  the 
first  edition  of  Tottel  (and  it  is  found  no  where  else)  reads  "Now  certesse  Ladle;" 
in  the  second  edition  this  phrase  was  changed  to  "Now  certesse  Garret,"  the 


518  EAKLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Another  misconception,  of  quite  a  different  type,  is  the  close 
association  of  the  names  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  the  "Dioscuri  of  the 
dawn,"  "the  twin  stars  of  the  Reformation."  So  far  as  the  latter 
phrase  be  apphed  to  Surrey,  whatever  evidence  there  is  points  in 
entirely  the  opposite  direction.  Religion  was  then  joined  with 
politics,  and  the  party  of  the  reformers  found  in  Surrey  an  active 
antagonist.  Sir  Edward  Knyvet  deposed  that  when  he  learned 
of  Cromwell's  fall,  he  exclaimed:  "Nowe  is  that  foul  churl  dead 
so  ambitious  of  others  blode;  nowe  is  he  stricken  by  his  owne  staflFe" 
and  this  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  was  by  Cromwell's  intercession 
that  he  himself  had  escaped  mutilation  only  three  years  before. 
The  feeling  for  his  caste  obliterated  the  sense  of  the  merely  personal 
obligation.  But  such  sentiments  would  scarcely  commend  him 
to  Wyatt,  who  did  belong  to  the  other  party  and  who  was  one  of 
the  "minions"  of  Cromwell.  The  political  differences,  moreover, 
were  not  compensated  for  by  a  similarity  in  age.  Wyatt  was  fifteen 
years  older  than  Surrey,  and,  as  at  the  time  of  his  death 
Surrey  was  but  twenty-nine,  this  difference  was  marked.  Surrey 
belonged  to  a  younger  generation.  He  was  but  little  older  than 
Wyatt's  son,  and  in  fact  it  was  in  company  with  the  latter  that 
he  scandalized  London.  It  is  Wyatt  the  younger  that  he  takes 
with  him  on  his  French  expedition.  Consequently  the  usual  im- 
pUcation  in  discussing  the  relationship  between  them,  that  they 
were  intimates,  needs  careful  revision. 

That  they  were  acquaintances,  however,  is  equally  clear  from 
the  same  facts.  But  it  does  not  rest  alone  upon  inference.  We 
have  three  poems  by  Surrey  referring  to  Wyatt;  one  is  in  praise 
of  the  translations  of  the  Psalms,  and  two  are  elegies  on  his  death. 
Of  these  three  the  two  Elizabethan  sonnets  are  conventional.  The 
third  is  worth  quoting  in  this  connection.^ 

W.  resteth  here,  that  quick  could  neuer  rest: 
Whose  heauenly  giftes  encreased  by  disdayn. 
And  vertue  sank  the  deper  in  his  Brest. 
Such  profit  he  by  enuy  could  obtain. 

family  name  of  the  Fitzgeralds.     Bapst's  suggestion  that  Garret  is  a  diminutive 
from  Margaret  is  not   plausible.     I  am  unable  to  conjecture   why  Tottel  made 
this  alteration,  unless  this  poem  belongs,  or  he  thought  it  belonged,  to  the  same 
period  and  related  the  same  affair. 
1  This  is  found  only  in  Tottel. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  519 

A  bed,  where  wisdom  misteries  did  frame: 
Whose  hammers  bet  styll  in  that  liuely  brayn. 
As  on  a  stithe:  where  that  some  work  of  fame 
Was  dayly  wrought,  to  tume  to  Britaines  gayn. 

A  visage,  stem,  and  myid:  where  bothe  did  grow. 
Vice  to  contemne,  in  vertue  to  reioyce: 
Amid  great  stormes,  whom  grace  assured  so. 
To  lyue  upright,  and  smile  at  fortunes  choyce. 

A  hand,  that  taught,  what  might  be  sayd  in  ryme: 
That  reft  Chaucer  the  glory  of  his  wit: 
A  mark,  the  which  (unparfited,  for  time) 
Some  may  approche,  but  neuer  none  shall  hit. 

A  toung,  that  serued  in  forein  realmes  his  king: 
Whose  courteous  taike  to  vertue  did  enflame. 
Eche  noble  hart:  a  worthy  guide  to  bring 
Our  English  youth,  by  trauail,  unto  dame. 

An  eye,  whose  iudgement  none  affect  could  blinde, 
Frendes  to  allure,  and  foes  to  reconcile: 
Whose  persing  loke  did  represent  a  mynde 
With  vertue  fraught,  reposed,  voyd  of  gyle. 

A  hart,  where  drede  was  neuer  so  imprest. 
To  hyde  the  thought,  that  might  the  trouth  auance: 
In  neyther  fortune  lost,  nor  yet  represt. 
To  swell  in  wealth,  or  yeld  unto  mischance. 

A  valiant  corps,  where  force,  and  beawty  met: 
Happy,  alas,  to  happy,  but  for  foes: 
Lined,  and  ran  the  race,  that  nature  set: 
Of  manhodes  shape,  where  she  the  molde  did  lose. 

But  to  the  heauens  that  simple  soule  is  fled: 
Which  left  with  such,  as  couet  Christ  to  know, 
Witnesse  of  faith,  that  neuer  shall  be  ded: 
Sent  for  our  helth,  but  not  receiued  so. 
Thus,  for  our  gilte,  this  iewel  haue  we  lost: 
The  earth  his  bones,  the  heauens  possesse  his  gost. 

Whatever  may  be  the  criticisms  on  the  stereotyped  expressions  in 
this  piece,  or  the  inventory  nature  of  its  structure,  the  allusions 
show  that  the  poet  knew  his  subject,  although  the  frigidity  of  the 
treatment  suggests  that  this  knowledge  was  of  the  head  rather  than 
of  the  heart.  But  at  least  it  is  certain  that  he  admired  him.  Pre- 
sumably it  was  on  account  of  this  poem  that  Leland  dedicated  his 
Naeniae  in  mortem  Thomae  Viaii  equitis  incomparaJnlis  to  Surrey.^ 
In  the  dedicatory  poem  to  this  volume  Leland  tells  Surrey  that 

1  This  has  been  reprinted  as  Appendix  B,  Vol.  2  of  Miss  Fozwell's  edition. 


520  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Nominis  ille  tui  dum  vixit  magnus  amator. 

The  phrase  suggests  the  friendly  interest  of  the  older  poet  in 
the  younger,  an  interest  that  was  repaid  by  the  formal  elegy 
just  quoted.  This  hypothesis  seems  borne  out  by  another  epi- 
gram.^ Although  naturally  much  trust  cannot  be  placed  in 
verses  in  which  the  author  aims  to  flatter,  the  conjunction  of  the 
two  names  seems  to  indicate  that  Surrey  was  recognized  as  the 
logical  successor  to  Wyatt's  poetical  position,  and  at  the  least  it 
does  show  that  Surrey  took  his  own  verses  seriously  enough  to 
make  Leland  feel  that  he  would  be  flattered  by  such  a  conjunction. 
The  inference  from  this  is  that  he  must  have  regarded  Wyatt's 
work  with  admiration  and  respect. 

Under  the  circumstances  a  comparison  between  the  work  of  the 
two  poets  is  inevitable.  Both  translated  Sonnet  CXL  of  Petrarch. 
In  order  that  the  reader  may  have  the  documents  in  evidence  the 
three  will  be  given. 

Amor,  cbe  nel  penser  mio  vive  e  regna 

E'l  suo  seggio  maggior  nel  mio  cor  tene, 

Talor  armato  ne  la  fronte  vene; 

Ivi  si  loca,  et  ivi  pon  sua  insegna. 
Quella  ch'amare  e  sofferir  ne  'nsegna, 

E  vol  che  '1  gran  desio,  I'accesa  spene, 

Ragion,  vergogna  e  reverenza  affrene, 
Di  nostro  ardir  fra  se  stessa  si  sdegna. 
Onde  Amor  paventoso  fugge  al  core, 
Lasciando  ogni  sua  impresa,  e  piange,  e  trema; 

Ivi  s'acsonde  e  non  appar  piii  fdre. 
Che  poss'  io  far,  temendo  il  mio  signore, 

Se  non  star  seco  in  fin  a  Tora  extrema? 

Ch^  bel  fin  fa  chi  ben  amando  more. 

This  is  a  typical  sonnet  in  Petrarch's  conceited  manner,  a  meta- 
phor ridden  to  death  for  the  purpose  of  closing  with  an  epigram. 
The  last  line  is  marked  by  conscious  alliteration, — c-b-f-f-c-b-m-m-. 
It  is  a  purely  intellectual  concept  worked  out  like  a  puzzle.    With 

1  JVDss  FoxweU's  Wiat,  «,  fS5. 

Una  dies  geminos  phoenices  non  dedit  orbi 

Mors  erit  unius  vita  sed  alterius 
Kara  avis  in  terris  confectus  morte  Viatus 

Houardum  heredem  scripserat  ante  suum. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  521 

Wyatt's  predeliction  for  this  sort  of  sonnet  no  explanation  is  re- 
quired why  he  chose  it.^ 

The  longe  love  that  in  my  thought  doeth  harbar: 

And  in  myn  hert  doeth  kepe  his  residence: 

Into  my  face  preseth  with  bolde  pretence; 

And  therein  campeth  spreding  his  baner. 
She  that  me  lemeth  to  love  and  suffre; 

And  willes  that  my  trust  and  lustes  negligence 

Be  rayned  by  reason,  shame,  and  reverence; 

With  his  hardines  taketh  displeasur. 
Where  with  all  unto  the  hertes  forrest  he  fleith: 

Leving  his  enterprise  with  payn  and  cry: 

And  ther  him  hideth  and  not  appereth. 
What  may  I  do  when  my  maister  fereth? 

But  in  the  feld  with  him  to  lyve  and  dye? 

For  goode  is  the  liff,  ending  faithfully. 

Wyatt  here  has  succeeded  in  giving  an  almost  literal  translation, 
at  the  same  time  preserving  the  form  of  the  Italian  sonnet,  with 
the  exception  of  the  ending  in  a  couplet.  It  is  unnecessary  again 
to  stress  the  amount  of  verbal  ingenuity  such  a  performance  re- 
quires. Also  it  must  be  granted  that  in  the  accomplishment  of 
this  feat  he  has  sacrificed  whatever  poetic  value  the  original  may 
have.  Nor  is  the  scansion  without  diflSculties.  If  the  first  line 
be  read  as  a  normal  pentameter, 

The  16nge  love  that  in  my  thought  do^th  harb&r, 

every  stress  falls  upon  a  weak  syllable.  But  Wyatt,  following  the 
Medieval  Latin  tradition,  composed  by  ear.  Thus  there  is  a  syl- 
labic value  given  to  the  probably  unsounded  final  e  and  a  dactyl 
is  substituted  for  a  trochee.     The  line  then  reads 

The  I6nge  I6ve  //  th&t  in  my  thoiight  do6th  harbdr. 

But  to  shift  the  accent  to  so  great  an  extent  is  not  freedom  but 
license,  and  presupposes  the  accompaniment  of  music.  The  ex- 
planation is  that  the  language  was  still  in  so  unsettled  a  condition 
that  the  Romance  accent  upon  the  second  syllable,  where  modern 
English  accents  the  first,  was  allowable.      Consequently  he  ac- 

'  The  reading  is  from  the  Egerton  MS.  given  by  Miss  Foxwell,  1, 14. 


522  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

cepts  rimes  based  alone  on  the  final  syllable, — harbdr,  ban^r, 
suffre,  displeasftr,  although  by  no  system  can  they  be  accounted 
pure  rimes.  Wyatt  is  clearly  hampered  both  by  an  unsettled 
technique  and  an  unsettled  language.  Surrey's  version  shows 
the  advance.^ 

Love  that  doth  raine  and  Hue  within  my  thought 
and  buylt  his  seat  within  my  capty  ve  brest 
clad  in  the  armes  wherein  with  me  he  fowght 
oft  in  my  face  he  doth  his  banner  rest 
But  she  that  tawght  me  love  and  suflfre  paine 
my  doub(t)ful  hope  &  eke  my  hote  desire 
with  shamfast  looke  to  shadoo  and  refrayne 
her  smyling  grace  convertyth  streight  to  yre 
And  cowarde  Love  then  to  the  hart  apace 
taketh  his  flight  where  he  doth  lorke  and  playne 
his  purpose  lost,  and  dare  not  shew  his  face, 
for  my  lorde's  gilt  thus  fawtles  byde  I  payine; 
yet  from  my  Lorde  shall  not  my  foote  remove 
sweet  is  the  death  that  taketh  end  by  love. 

Although  this  version  is  as  literal  as  the  other,  by  abandoning  the 
rime-scheme  of  the  Italian  sonnet,  the  difficulty  of  the  rendition 
has  been  greatly  decreased.  It  is  unnecessary  here  to  apologize 
for  the  so-called  "Elizabethan  sonnet";  the  form  used  by  Shake- 
speare needs  no  defense.  For,  whereas  the  frequency  of  rimes  in 
ItaUan  makes  the  Italian  sonnet  normal  in  that  language,  in  Eng- 
lish, except  in  the  hands  of  the  greatest  masters,  it  tends  to 
degenerate  into  mere  verbal  ingenuity.  It  is  always  an  exotic. 
Certainly  Wyatt's  experiments  in  the  Italian  form  would  not  en- 
courage imitators.  Surrey  here  shows,  then,  both  his  independence 
and  his  critical  ability  in  preferring  a  form  more  consonant  with  the 
genius  of  the  language.  And  his  use  of  it  was  carried  over  into  the 
next  generation.  The  two  forms  of  the  sonnet  produce  quite  differ- 
ent effects.  The  Italian  sonnet,  as  Petrarch  uses  it,  automatically 
breaks  into  the  octave  and  the  sextet,  the  octave  stating  the  gen- 
eral condition  and  the  sextet  giving  the  concrete  application.  As 
the  EUzabethan  sonnet  consists  of  three  quatrains  and  a  couplet, 
there  is  no  such  mechanical  break;  the  idea,  therefore,  is  developed 

^Add.  MS.  S6529,  as  quoted  by  Padelford.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
whereas  the  Wyatt  text  being  probably  autographic  represents  Wyatt's  final 
work,  the  Surrey  is  derived  only  from  a  copyist. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  523 

through  twelve  lines,  closing  with  an  epigrammatic  couplet.  The 
difference  is  obvious  even  in  the  translations  from  Petrarch. 
Wyatt's  couplet  is  not  complete  in  itself,  whereas  Surrey's  may 
be  detached  as  a  quotation.  That  this  form  originated  with  Sur- 
rey is  very  doubtful,  since  it  was  used  by  Wyatt,  although  with 
a  slightly  different  rime-scheme,  by  Grimald,  and  by  several  of  the 
Uncertain  Authors;  Surrey's  use  of  it,  however,  in  all  probability 
gave  it  currency.  It  was  Surrey's  fortune  to  be  accepted  as  the 
representative  of  the  age, — the  age  when  for  the  first  time  since 
Chaucer,  the  language  had  become  relatively  fixed  in  the  forms 
of  the  words,  and  when  the  poetic  technique  had  passed  beyond 
the  obviously  experimental  stage. 

Owing  to  this  advantage  of  position,  Surrey  seemed  to  Sidney 
to  be  the  first  modem  poet.  Whereas  the  language  of  Skelton 
or  Wyatt  was  archaic,  Surrey's  English  was  current  for  the  next 
two  centuries.  As  the  archaic  effect  in  the  previous  quotations 
is  due  primarily  to  the  spelling,  his  translation  of  the  forty-seventh 
Epigram  of  the  Tenth  Book  of  Martial  will  be  given,  with  the  Latin 
and  with  two  later  versions.    The  Martial  is  as  follows :  ^ 

Vitam  quse  faciant  beatiorem, 
lucundissime  Martialis,  hsec  sunt: 
Res  non  parta  labore,  sed  relicta; 
Non  ingratus  ager,  focus  p>erennis; 
Lis  numquam,  toga  rara,  mens  quieta; 
Vires  ingenuse,  salubre  corpus; 
Prudens  simplicitas,  pares  amici; 
Convictus  facilis,  sine  arte  mensa; 
Nox  non  ebria,  sed  soluta  curis; 
Non  tristis  torus,  et  tamen  pudicus; 
Somnus,  qui  faciat  breves  tenebras: 
Quod  sis,  esse  velis  nihilque  malis; 
Summum  nee  metuas  diem  nee  optes. 

Surrey  renders  this  as  follows :  ^ 

Martial,  the  things  that  do  attain 
The  happy  life,  be  these,  I  find: 
The  riches  left,  not  got  with  pain; 
The  fruitful  ground,  the  quiet  mind: 

*  Ad  Julium  Martialem,  Martialis  Epigrammaton,  Liber  X,  Epig.  xlvii,  von 
Ludwig  Friedlaender,  Zweiter  Band,  134. 

'  The  Poems  of  Henry  Howard  Earl  of  Surrey,  London,  William  Pickering,  ISSt 
57. 


524  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

The  equal  friend,  no  grudge,  no  strife; 
No  charge  of  rule,  nor  governance; 
Without  disease,  the  healthful  life; 
The  household  of  continuance: 

The  mean  diet,  no  delicate  fare; 
True  wisdom  join'd  with  simpleness; 
The  night  discharged  of  all  care. 
Where  wine  the  wit  may  not  oppress: 

The  faithful  wife,  without  debate; 
Such  sleeps  as  may  beguile  the  night. 
Contented  with  thine  own  estate; 
Ne  wish  for  Death,  ne  fear  his  might. 

Fortunately  this  same  epigram  was  translated  by  R.  Fletcher  in 
1656: 1 

Most  pleasant  Martial  these  are  they 

That  make  the  happyer  life  and  day. 

Means  not  sweat  for,  but  resign'd. 

Fire  without  end,  fields  still  in  kinde. 

No  strife,  no  office,  inward  peace. 

Free  strength,  a  body  sans  disease, 

A  prudent  plainesse,  equal  friends. 

Cheap  Gates,  not  scraped  from  the  world's  ends, 

A  night  not  drown'd,  but  free  from  care. 

Sheets  never  sad,  and  yet  chast  are. 

Sleep  that  makes  short  the  shades  of  night. 

Art  such  thou  would'st  be,  it  there  might 

A  choice  be  offer' d,  nor  dost  fear 

Nor  wish  thy  last  dayes  exit  here. 

Nearly  fifty  years  later,  in  1695,  the  same  epigram  was  translated 
again:  ^ 

What  our  Lives  render  most  at  ease. 
My  dearest  Martial,  they  are  these: 
A  'State  that's  left,  not  got  with  Toil; 
A  constant  Fire,  a  fruitful  Soil; 
A  quiet  Life,  from  Law-Suits  free; 
But  seldom  that  the  Gown  doth  see; 

*  Ex  otto  Negotium,  or  Martiall  hia  E-pigrams.  By  R.  Fletcher,  London  1656; 
93. 

*  Epigrams  of  Martial,  Englished.  .  .  London,  1695,  236.  It  was  likewise 
translated  by  Charles  Cotton,  Poems  on  Several  Occasions,  1689,  561.  I  have 
preferred  the  one  in  the  text  merely  because  the  date  of  publication  is  nearer 
the  end  of  the  century. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  525 

Ingenuous  Strength,  a  Body  sound; 
Prudent  Plainness,  Friends  equal  found; 
An  artless  Board,  with  easie  Fare; 
A  Night  not  Drunk,  yet  void  of  Care; 
A  Bed  not  sowre,  and  yet  that's  Chaste; 
Sound  Sleep,  that  makes  Night  seem  to  haste; 
Nought  else,  but  what  thou  art,  to  wish  to  be. 
The  last  Hour  not  to  fear,  or  haste  to  see. 

Of  these  tliree,  certainly  (with  the  modem  spelling)  Surrey  shows 
his  age  the  least !  There  is  nothing  that  suggests  the  peculiarities 
of  the  epoch  as  does  the  line 

A  Night  not  Drunk,  yet  void  of  Care! 

Aside  from  the  obvious  fact  that  Surrey  is  by  far  the  greatest  poet 
of  the  three,  it  is  worthy  of  note  that  there  is  scarcely  one  of  his 
phrases  that  is  not  today  in  common  usage,  whereas  in  both  of  the 
others  some  phrases  seem  strained.  Clearly  in  his  time  it  was 
possible  to  write  standard  English. 

And  the  fact  is  obvious  that  Surrey  is  giving  poetic  value  to 
his  version  of  the  Latin.  The  objection  may  be  raised  that  the 
effect  is  gained  by  the  easy  device  of  comparing  him  with  inferior 
writers.  Fortunately  the  same  piece  has  been  translated  by  the 
well-known  Clement  Marot.^ 

Marot,  void,  si  tu  le  veux  savoir. 

Qui  fait  d  I'homme  heureuse  vie  avoir: 

Successions,  non  biens  acquiz  d,  peine. 

Feu  en  tout  temps,  maison  plaisante  et  saine, 

Jamias  proc^  les  membres  bien  dispos, 

Et  au  dedans  un  esprit  d  repos; 

Contraire  d  nul,  n'avoir  aucuns  contraires; 

Peu  se  mesler  des  publique  affaires; 

Sage  simplesse,  amys  4  soy  pareilz. 

Table  ordinaire  et  sans  graus  appareilz; 

Facilement  avec  toutes  gens  vivre; 

Nuict  sans  nul  soing,  n'estre  pas  pourtant  yvre; 

Femme  joyeuse,  et  chaste  n^ntmoins; 

Plus  haut  qu'on  n'est  ne  vouloir  point  attaindre; 

Ne  desirer  la  mort  ny  ne  la  craindre. 

VoylA,  Marot,  si  tu  le  veux  s^avoir. 

Qui  faict  &  I'homme  heureuse  vie  avoir. 

'  Oeuvres  de  Clement  Marot,  ed.  Jannet,  3,  89.    De  soy  mesme. 


526  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

For  precision  and  felicity  of  phrase  Surrey  need  not  shun  com- 
parison even  with  the  great  French  poet  of  his  age.  The  docu- 
ments in  evidence  have  here  been  given  the  reader,  that  he  may 
form  his  own  judgment.  It  will  be  a  matter  of  surprise,  how- 
ever, if  the  verdict,  to  some  measure  at  least,  does  not  justify  the 
Elizabethans  in  their  estimate  of  Surrey. 

That  this  ability  was  not  reached  at  a  bound,  either  by  Surrey, 
or  the  poets  of  his  age,  is  shown  by  the  translations  from  Horace. 
The  three  separate  renderings  of  the  same  ode,  the  Tenth  Ode  of 
the  Second  Book,^  may  be  regarded  as  studies  in  English  versi- 
jBcation.  This  must  argue  either  that  Surrey  and  two  of  his  friends 
translated  this  ode  in  rivalry,  or  that  independently  each  of  the 
three  turned  to  Horace,  as  the  exemplar  of  the  art  of  poetry,  to 
learn  poetic  technique.  That  it  is  the  latter  alternative  may  be 
assumed  from  the  widely  separated  positions  of  the  translations 
in  Tottel.  Surrey's  version  is  on  page  twenty-seven;  the  second, 
by  one  of  the  "  Uncertain  Authors,"  on  page  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
seven;  and  the  third  was  included  in  the  thirty-nine  additional 
poems  of  the  second  edition.  If  indeed  the  Miscellany  does  repre- 
sent the  combination  of  two  or  more  commonplace  books,  the 
probabiUty  is  strong  of  a  diverse  authorship. 

Such  a  possibility  at  once  lends  a  peculiar  interest  to  the  poems 
themselves.  In  order  that  the  reader  may  be  able  himself  to  make 
the  necessary  comparison,  the  Latin  will  be  first  cited  and  then  the 
three  English  translations  in  the  order  given  above. 

Rectius  vives,  Licini,  neque  altum 
semper  urgendo;  neque,  dum  procellaa 
cautus  horrescis,  minium  premendo 
litus  iniquum. 

Auream  quisquis  mediocritatem 
diligit,  tutus  caret  obsoleti 
sordibus  tecti,  caret  invidenda 
sobrius  aula. 

Sepius  ventis  agitatur  ingens 
pinus,  et  celsse  graviore  casu 
deddunt  turres,  feriuntque  summos 
fulgura  montes. 

» Noted  by  Nott,  Works  of  Surrey,  op.  cit.,  329. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  627 

Sperat  infestis,  metuit  secundis 
alteram  sortem  bene  prseparatum 
pectus.  Informes  hiemes  reducit 
luppiter,  idem 

Summovet.     Non,  si  male  nunc,  et  olim 
sic  erit.    Quondam  cithara  tacentem 
suscitat  Musam,  neque  semper  arcum 
tendit  Apollo. 

Rebus  angustis  animosus  atque 
fortis  appare;  sapienter  idem 
contrahes  vento  nimium  secundo 

turgida  vela.  ' 

Surrey's  version  is  headed  Praise  of  meane  and  constant  estate. 

Of  thy  lyfe,  Thomas,  this  compasse  well  mark: 
Not  aye  with  full  sayles  the  hye  seas  to  beat: 
Ne  by  coward  dred,  in  shonning  stormes  dark. 
On  shalow  shores  thy  keel  in  perill  freat. 
Who  so  gladly  halseth  the  golden  meane, 
Voyde  of  dangers  aduisdly  hath  his  home 
Not  with  lothsom  muck,  as  a  den  vncleane: 
Nor  palacelyke,  wherat  disdayn  may  glome. 
The  lofty  pyne  the  great  winde  often  riues: 
With  violenter  swey  falne  turrets  stepe: 
Lightninges  assault  the  hye  moimtains,  and  cliues. 
A  hart  well  stayd,  in  ouerthwartes  depe, 
Ho{>eth  amendes:  in  swete,  doth  feare  the  sowre. 
God,  that  sendeth,  withdrawthe  winter  sharp. 
Now  ill,  not  aye  thus:  once  Phebus  to  lowre 
With  bow  vnbent  shall  cesse,  and  frame  to  harp.' 
His  voyce.  In  straite  estate  appere  thou  stout: 
And  so  wisely,  when  lucky  gale  of  winde 
All  thy  puft  sailes  shall  fil,  loke  well  about: 
Take  in  a  ryft:  hast  is  wast,  prose  doth  finde. 

The  poem  of  the  First  Edition  is  entitled  The  meane  estate  is  to  he 
accompted  the  best. 

Who  craftly  castes  to  stere  his  boate 

and  safely  skoures  the  flattering  flood : 

He  cutteth  not  the  greatest  waues 

for  why  that  way  were  nothing  good. 

*  The  punctuation,  although  clearly  in  error,  has  been  retained. 


528  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

Ne  fleteth  on  the  crocked  shore 

lest  harme  him  happe  awayting  left. 
But  wines  away  between  them  both, 

as  who  would  say  the  meane  is  best. 
Who  waiteth  on  the  golden  meane, 

he  put  in  point  of  sickernes: 
Hides  not  his  head  in  sluttishe  coates, 

ne  shroudes  himself  in  filthines. 
Ne  sittes  aloft  in  hye  estate, 

where  hatefull  hartes  enuie  his  chance: 
But  wisely  walkes  betwixt  them  twaine, 

ne  proudly  doth  himself  auance 
The  highest  tree  in  all  the  woode 

is  rifest  rent  with  blustring  windes: 
The  higher  hall  the  greater  fall 

such  chance  haue  proude  and  lofty  mindes. 
When  lupiter  from  hie  doth  threat 

with  mortall  mace  and  dint  of  thunder 
The  highest  hilles  ben  batrid  eft 

When  they  stand  still  that  stoden  vnder 
The  man  whose  head  with  wit  is  fraught 

in  welth  will  feare  a  worser  tide 
When  fortune  failes  dispaireth  nought 

but  constantly  doth  stil  abide 
For  he  that  sendeth  grisely  st.ormes 

with  whisking  windes  and  bitter  blastes 
And  fowlth  with  haile  the  winters  face 

and  f rotes  the  soil  with  hory  frostes 
Euen  he  adawth  the  force  of  colde 

the  spring  in  sendes  with  somer  hote 
The  same  full  oft  to  stormy  hartes 

is  cause  of  bale:  of  ioye  the  roote. 
Not  always  il  though  so  be  now 

when  cloudes  ben  driuen  then  rides  the  racke 
Phebus  the  fresh  ne  shoteth  still 

sometime  he  harpes  his  muse  to  wake 
Stand  stif  therfore  pluck  vp  thy  hart 

lose  not  thy  port  though  fortune  faile 
Againe  whan  wind  doth  serue  at  will 

take  hede  to  hye  to  hoyse  thy  saile. 

The  version  in  the  Second  Edition  is  labelled  merely  Of  the  golden 
meane. 

The  wisest  way,  thy  bote,  in  wane  and  winde  to  guie, 
Is  neither  still  the  trade  of  middle  streame  to  trie: 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  529 

N^  (warely  shunnyng  wrecke  by  wether)  aye  to  nie. 

To  presse  vpon  the  perillous  shore. 
But  clenely  flees  he  filthe:  ne  wonnes  a  wretched  wight. 
In  carlish  coate:  and  carefull  court  aie  thrall  to  spite. 
With  port  of  proud  astate  he  leues:  who  doth  delight. 

Of  golden  meane  to  hold  the  lore. 
Stonnes  rifest  rende  the  sturdy  stout  pineapple  tre. 
Of  lofty  ruing  towers  the  fals  the  feller  be. 
Most  fers  doth  lightenyng  ligfet,  where  furthest  we  do  se. 

The  hilles  the  valey  to  forsake. 
Well  fumisht  brest  to  bide  e«'he  chanses  changing  chear. 
In  woe  hath  chearfull  hope,  m  weal  hath  waref uU  fear. 
One  self  loue  winter  makes  with  lothfull  lokes  appear. 

That  can  by  course  the  same  aslake. 
What  if  into  mishap  the  case  now  casten  be? 
It  forceth  not  such  form»^  of  luck  to  last  to  thee. 
Not  alway  bent  is  Phebns  bow :  his  harpe  and  he, 

Ceast  siluer  sound  sometime  doth  raise. 
In  hardest  hap  vse  heipe  of  hardy  hopefull  hart. 
Seme  bold  to  bear  the  brunt  of  fortune  ouerthwart. 
Eke  wisely  when  forewinde  to  full  breathes  on  thy  part. 

Swage  sw^Uyng  aaile,  and  doubt  decayes. 

Even  a  casual  reading  of  these  poems  in  comparison  with  the 
Latin  shows  that  we  are  dealing  with  prentice  pieces  of  low  grade. 
Not  one  of  them  would  excite  the  enthusiasm  of  a  modern  school- 
master. The  problem  was  to  transpose  the  Sapphic  strophes  of 
Horace  into  an  analogous  English  form  without  dilution.  As  the 
three  are  here  given  to  the  reader,  he  may  judge  the  results  for 
himself.  Surrey  is  tr/ing  to  render  the  six  strophes  of  the  Latin 
into  five  pentameter  quatrains.  To  translate  the  ninety-two  words 
of  the  original  he  has  used  only  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  his  rime-scheme  required  a  superfluous  last 
line.  On  the  other  hand  to  gain  such  condensation  his  sentences  ' 
are  distorted  out  of  the  English  order. 

once  Phebus  to  lowre 
With  bow  vnbent  shall  cesse,  and  frame  to  harp 
His  voyce.  . 

is  comprehensible  only  upon  a  second  reading.  It  may  be  assumed 
that  this  is  an  early  piece;  if  so,  it,  with  the  other  two,  is  an  interest- 
ing proof  that  the  poets  of  the  age  turned  to  the  Latin  to  learn 


530  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

their  art.  The  very  crudity  of  the  work  becomes  eloquent.  And 
if  much  of  the  work  produced  then  has  been  lost,  these  pieces  are 
important,  not  for  themselves  but  as  tjT)es.  For  such  poems  as 
these  there  may  be  posited  a  background  of  classical  Latin. 

But  clearly  so  far  as  Surrey  is  concerned,  this  classical  back- 
ground is  limited  to  the  contents  of  the  poems.  He  makes  no  at- 
tempt to  suggest  classic  forms.  Thus,  in  the  three  poems  just 
quoted,  while  the  third  author  endeavors  to  imitate  the  Sapphic 
strophe  by  three  riming  hexameter  lines  and  a  half  line,  Surrey 
contents  himself  with  pentameter  quatrains.  The  simplicity  of  the 
rime-scheme,  abab,  recalls  the  precepts  of  the  Medieval  Latin. 
The  practice  of  the  medieval  writers  is  also  evidenced  in  the  desire 
to  introduce  the  very  obvious  classical  allusion.^ 

I  that  Vlisses'  yeres  have  spent 

to  seeke  Penelope 

fynde  well  the  foyle  I  have  ment 

to  say  yat  was  not  soo 

Sins  Troilus'  cause  hathe  caused  me 

from  Crised  for  to  goo 

and  to  repent  Ulisses'  tnithe 

in  seas  and  storme  skyes 

of  raginge  will  &  wanton  youthe, 

whereunih  I  have  tossed  sore 

from  Cilia's  seas  to  Carribes'  clives 

vppone  the  drowninge  shore. 

Such  stanzas  as  these  might  well  have  been  written  in  the  fifteenth 
century  before  the  introduction  of  Greek.  No  distinction  is  made 
between  the  stories  of  the  Odyssey  and  the  Troilus;  to  the  writer 
both  are  equally  authoritative.  The  objection  may  be  made  that 
this  poem  is  at  best  only  doubtfully  attributed  to  Surrey.  But  the 
same  is  true  of  the  poem  assigned  him  by  Tottel,  When  ragyng 
loue.^   The  second  and  third  stanzas  of  this  are: 

I  call  to  minde  the  nauye  greate, 
That  the  Greekes  brought  to  Troye  towne: 
And  how  the  boysteous  windes  did  beate 
Their  shyps,  and  rente  their  sayles  adowne, 

*  Harl.  Misc.  78,  given  by  Padelford,  op.  cit.,  41.    By  Tottel  it  is  listed  among 
the  poems  of  the  "Uncertain  Authors,"  Arbers  Reprint,  241. 
*Arber's  Reprint,  14;  not  given  in  any  manuscript. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  531 

Till  Agamemnons  daughters  bloode 
Appeasde  the  goddes,  that  them  withstode. 
And  how  that  in  those  ten  years  warre. 
Full  many  a  bloudye  dede  was  done. 
And  many  a  lord,  that  came  full  farre. 
There  caught  his  bane  (alas  )to  sone: 
And  many  a  good  knight  ouerronne. 
Before  the  Grekes  had  Helene  wonne. 

Lines  such  as  these  are  more  like  the  medieval  treatment  of  Grecian 
"knights"  and  of  "Duke  Hannyball,"  and  the  rime-scheme, 
ababcc,  is  that  used,  according  to  Gascoigne,  in  the  Ballade,*  and 
serving  "beste  for  daunces  and  light  matters."  The  very  word 
comes  from  the  Medieval  Latin  ballare.  All  this  reminds  one  that 
besides  the  obvious  classical  strain  there  is  the  other,  the  Medieval 
Latin  strain,  in  Surrey.  It  must  be  remembered  that  he  was 
brought  up  with  a  knowledge  of  poets  following  medieval  prece- 
dents. It  was  for  his  uncle,  the  Admiral,  that  Barclay  wrote  the 
Tower  of  Honour  and  Virtue,  and, — ^what  is  much  more  important — 
Skelton  was  in  some  sort  an  attache  of  the  Howards.^  It  will  be 
remembered  '  that  the  Medieval  Latin  scanned  by  the  number  of 
accents  rather  than  the  number  of  syllables  in  a  line.  So  in  the 
second,  third  and  fifth  lines  of  the  second  stanza  of  the  last  passage 
quoted,  there  is  an  extra  syllable.    For  instance,  in  the  line, 

Full  many  a  bloudye  dede  was  done, 

the  second  foot  is  an  anapest.  Quite  clearly  this  is  not  due  to  a  de- 
sire to  copy  classic  meters;  it  is  due  to  medieval  precedent.  This 
gives  the  point  of  view  necessary  to  understand  Gascoigne' s  re- 
marks in  the  next  age:  * 

For  furder  explanation  hereof,  note  you  that  commonly  now  a  dayes  in  eng- 
lish  rimea  (for  I  dare  not  cal  them  English  verses)  we  use  none  other  order  but  a 

*  Ceriayne  notes  of  Instruction  in  The  Posies,  ed.  by  John  W.  Cunliffe,  1907, 
471. 

*  I  have  myself  overstated  the  relationship  in  saying  that  Surrey  was  a"  pupil  " 
of  Skelton, — Surrey  could  not  have  been  more  than  four  or  five  when  Skelton 
wrote  the  Oarland  of  Laurel  at  Sheriff  Hutton, — but  that  there  is  a  definite  influ- 
ence of  the  older  poet  upon  the  younger  is  not  open  to  question. 

» Cf.  pp.  145-147. 

*  Gascoigne,  op.  cit.,  467.    The  diagram  there  given  is  omitted. 


532  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

foote  of  two  Billables,  wherof  the  first  is  depressed  or  made  short,  &  the  second 
is  elevate  or  made  long:  and  that  sound  or  scanning  contineuth  throughout  the 
verse.  We  have  used  in  times  past  other  kindes  of  Meeters:  as  for  example  this 
following: 

No  wight  in  this  world,  that  wealth  can  attaj^e^ 
Unl^sse  h^  bel6ve,  th&t  411  is  bilt  v4yne. 

Also  our  father  Chaucer  hath  used  the  same  libertie  in  feete  and  measures  that 
the  Latinists  do  use:  and  who  so  ever  do  p>eruse  and  well  consider  his  workes,  he 
shall  finde  that  although  his  lines  are  not  alwayes  of  one  selfe  same  number  of 
Syllables,  yet  beyng  redde  by  one  that  hath  understanding,  the  longest  verse 
and  that  which  hath  most  Syllables  in  it,  wil  fall  (to  the  eare)  correspondent  unto 
that  whiche  hath  fewest  sillables  in  it:  and  likwise  that  whiche  hath  in  it  fewest 
syllables,  shalbe  foimde  yet  to  consist  of  woordes  that  have  suche  naturall  sounde, 
as  may  seeme  equall  in  length  to  a  verse  which  hath  many  moe  sillables  of  lighter 
accentes.  And  surely  I  can  lament  that  wee  are  fallen  into  suche  a  playne  and 
simple  manner  of  wryting,  that  there  is  none  other  foote  used  but  one:  wherby 
our  Poemes  may  justly  be  called  Rithmes,  and  cannot  by  any  right  challenge 
the  name  of  a  Verse. 

Gascoigne  here  is  lamenting  that  the  progress  of  humanism  has 
restricted  the  freedom  of  EngHsh  verse.  Although,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  practice  was  not  in  accord  with  the  theory,  yet  the 
theory  is  significant,  especially  for  the  development  of  blank- 
verse.  The  origin  of  this  has  been  discussed  elsewhere.^  It  is 
Surrey's  treatment  of  the  measure  that  is  the  problem  here. 

The  difficulty  consists  in  the  fact  that  during  the  first  half  of  the 
century  two  distinct  theories  of  versification  were  advocated,  and 
the  practice  was  a  compromise  between  them.  In  the  rimed  verse 
the  Medieval  Latin  theory  is  certainly  perceptible;  the  confusion 
arises  in  the  unrimed  verse, — where  we  with  our  intensive  knowl- 
edge of  the  classics  expect  a  quantitative  value.  To  clear  the  issue, 
take  first  the  unrimed  translation  of  the  Fifty-fifth  Psalm,  the 
Fifty-fourth  of  the  Vulgate.  Forty-one  lines  in  the  English  follow 
fairly  Hterally  the  Latin  of  the  Vulgate.  Then  follows  an  inter- 
polation entirely  original. 

friowr  whose  harme  and  tounge  presents  the  wicked  sort 

of  those  false  wolves  witA  cootes  which  doo  their  ravin  hyde 

that  sweare  to  me  by  heauen  the  fotestole  of  the  lord 

who  though  force  had  hurt  my  fame  they  did  not  touch  my  lyfe 

such  patching  care  I  lothe  as  feeds  the  welth  witA  lyes 

1  Pp. 352-360. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  533 

but  in  thother  p(s)alme  of  David  fynd  I  ease 

lacta  curam  tuam  super  dominum  et  ipse  to  enutriet.* 

The  Latin  line  witli  which  the  poem  ends  is  that  in  the  Vulgate 
immediately  following  the  one  translated;  the  Psalm  then  con- 
tinues for  five  more  verses.  Surrey's  version  is  then  truncated; 
forty-one  lines  are  translated,  an  original  passage  is  interpolated, 
a  line  of  the  original  is  given,  and  the  conclusion  omitted.  The 
explanation  of  this  anomaly  is  purely  hypothetical.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  the  witnesses  all  comment  upon  the  fact  that 
during  his  trial  Surrey's  attitude  was  one  of  defiance,^  to  such  an 
extent  that  Holinshed  insinuates  that  it  prejudiced  his  judges 
against  him.*  K  this  passage  means  what  it  says,  Surrey  had  been 
told  by  a  friar,  suborned  by  his  enemies,  that  the  accusation  con- 
cerned merely  his  reputation,  not  his  Ufe.*  Consequently  instead 
of  the  expected  humble  confession,  such  as  was  his  father's  later, 
he  played  into  the  hands  of  the  Seymours  by  defending  himself. 
After  his  conviction,  therefore, 

lacta  super  Dominum  curam  tuam,  et  ipse  te  enutriet! 

If  this  hypothesis  be  accepted  as  plausible,  the  passage  becomes 
interesting,  since  it  is  the  last  work  of  the  author.  To  the  end, 
then,  he  scans  his  lines  by  the  number  of  accents,  not  by  the  num- 
ber of  syllables.    The  third  line  of  the  passage  quoted  reads 

that  swedre  to  m6  by  heduen  the  f6testole  6f  the  16rd; 

and  the  fourth  line  is  still  more  irregular  in  beginning  with  an 
anapest, 

who  though  f6rce  had  hOrt  my  f&me  they  did  not  t6uch  my  lyfe. 

Clearly  he  avails  himself  of  an  unacademic  freedom. 

'  Padelford.  op.  cit.,  53.  Of  course  "to"  in  the  last  line  of  the  passage  should 
read  te.  The  poem  is  the  last  of  Surrey's  in  Add.  MS.  36529  and  is  found  in  Add. 
MS.  28635. 

»Cf.  p.  511. 

*  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  (The  Life  and  Raigne  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth,  London, 
1649,  565)  who  had  access  to  documents  now  lost,  gives  the  same  impression. 

*  Nott  {Surrey,  op.  cit.,  398)  sees  in  this  passage  a  "presumption  that  Surrey's 
attachment  to  the  Reformation  had  drawn  upon  him  the  anger  of  the  supporters 
of  Popery."    The  documents  do  not  support  such  an  interpretation.    Bapst,  158, 


534  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

This  has  been  a  long  approach  to  the  question  of  Surrey's  version 
of  the  Second  and  the  Fourth  Books  of  the  ^neid.  The  question 
has  been  complicated  because  it  happened  to  be  a  classic  author, 
Vergil.  But  for  a  long  sustained  effort  in  translation  Vergil  was 
the  inevitable  choice  for  author  and  the  iEneid  for  subject.  This 
is  shown  by  the  fact  that  during  the  first  half  of  the  century  trans- 
lations of  the  iEneid  appear  in  almost  all  the  vernaculars.  In  1529 
was  pubUshed  the  French  version  in  rimed  couplets  by  Octavien 
de  Saint-Gelais;  in  1553  the  Gawin  Douglas  version  in  Lowland 
Scotch;  and  in  1539-1544  the  Italian  rendition  of  the  first  six  books, 
done  by  a  group  of  men.  As  there  is  little  probability  of  imitation 
between  the  French,  Italian,  and  the  Scotch,  it  is  evident  that  we 
are  dealing  with  a  phenomenon  not  limited  to  a  single  country  or 
to  a  single  author.  There  was  during  the  first  half  of  the  century 
a  desire  diffused  throughout  Europe  to  reproduce  classic  authors 
in  the  vernacular,  and  this  desire  surely  is  due  to  humanism. 

The  relation  of  Surrey's  translation  to  those  of  the  members  of 
the  group  requires  a  detailed  analysis.  Yet,  even  in  the  stating  of 
the  problem,  the  inherent  difficulties  in  the  way  of  a  satisfactory 
solution  become  manifest.  We  have  no  data.  Of  necessity  hypoth- 
esis piles  upon  hypothesis,  until  the  result  is  as  complicated  and  as 
fragile  as  a  spider's  web!  On  June  21, 1557,  Tottel  issued  Surrey's 
translation  of  the  Second  and  Fourth  Books  of  the  iEneid, — ^but 
by  1557  Surrey  had  been  dead  already  ten  years.  Therefore  the 
date  of  the  Tottel  publication  is  of  no  value  in  deciding  the  date  of 
composition.  Nor  is  it  definite  for  textual  criticism,  since  there  is 
little  probability  that  Tottel  had  a  better  text  for  the  .^neid  than 
he  had  for  the  poems.  Moreover,  for  the  Fourth  Book  there  are 
two  other  issues,  that  of  the  Hargrave  MS.  205,  and  that  of  the 
John  Day  impression^  and  the  text  as  given  by  the  manuscript 

interprets  this  passage  as  a  reference  to  the  betrayal  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 
by  the  Monk  Hopkins.  But  surely  both  Surrey  was  too  young  at  that  time,  and 
the  passage  was  written  too  much  later,  to  make  that  explanation  plausible. 

^  The  first  is  in  the  British  Museum,  and  has  been  studied  by  Fest  {Uber  Surrey's 
Virgilubersetzung,  nebst  Neuausgabe  des  vierien  Buches,  von  Dr.  Otto  Fest,  Palaestra 
XXXXIV,  1903)  and  by  Imelmann  (Zu  den  Anfdngen  des  Blankversen:  Surrey's 
Mneis  IV  in  ursprunglicher  Gestalt.  Von  Rudolf  Imelmann,  Jahrbuch  der 
Deutschen  Shakesp>eare-Gesellschaft,  1905,  p.  81.  The  second  is  the  John  Day  issue 
previously  discussed  (pages  355-356  note)  at  Britwell  Court.  To  my  knowledge  this 
has  never  been  either  reprinted  or  collated. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  535 

differs  markedly  from  that  given  by  Tottel.^  Whether  this  differ- 
ence in  the  readings  be  due  to  Surrey  himself,  or  whether  in  the 
versions  we  have  are  derivatives  from  a  single  lost  original,  and,  if 
so,  which  of  the  two  more  nearly  represents  that  lost  original,  are 
questions  at  present  impossible  of  solution.^  The  fact  to  be  kept 
constantly  in  mind  in  discussing  Surrey's  treatment  of  blank 
verse  is  that  the  fundamental  requirement,  an  authoritative 
text,  is  lacking.  Therefore  the  relation  of  the  unknown  Surrey 
version  to  the  various  translations,  when  one  remembers  the  high- 
handed methods  of  the  sixteenth  century  editors,  may  be  expressed 
as  an  algebraic  formula  where  all  the  quantities  are  unknown !  The 
value  of  X  may  be  expressed  only  in  terms  of  y  and  z. 

Since  no  one  has  ever  claimed  Surrey's  dependence  upon  Saint- 
Gelais,  the  question  narrows  down  to  the  relation  between  his 
version  and  that  of  Douglas  and  the  Italian.  Actually  of  course, 
it  is  not  one  question  here,  but  two  quite  different  problems.  Al- 
though the  Douglas  version  was  not  published  until  1553,  six 
years  after  Surrey's  death,  as  Douglas  had  died  in  London  in  1524, 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century  his  translation  had  been  in  existence  in 
manuscript  or  manuscripts.  Now  there  is  nothing  inherently  im- 
probable in  the  assumption  that  at  some  time  Surrey  had  had 
access  to  one  of  these  manuscripts.  Nott  collected  the  passages 
in  which  the  two  versions  were  verbally  similar,  of  which  there  are 

^  An  extreme  example  is  given  by  Imelmann.  {op.  eit:  98.) 

Continue  invadit:  "Tu  nunc  Karthaginis  altffi 
Fimdamenta  locas,  pulchramque  uxorius  urbem 
Exstniis?  heu  regni  rerumque  oblite  tuanim! 

Tottel's  version  is: 

Thus  he  encounters  him:  oh  careles  wight 
Both  of  thy  realme  and  of  thine  owne  affaires; 
A  wifebound  man  now  dost  thou  reare  the  walles 
Of  high  Cartage,  to  build  a  goodly  town  .... 

The  Hargrave  MS.  renders  it: 

Then  thus  he  sayd:  Thow  that  of  highe  Cartage 
I>oet  the  foimdaciouns  laye,to  please  thie  wife. 
Raising  on  height  a  passing  fayer  citie. 
But  oh!  for  woe,  thine  owne  things  out  of  minde. 

*  I  confess  that  I  am  not  much  impressed  by  arguments  where  the  chief  reliance 
U  placed  upon  rhetorical  questions. 


636  EARLY  POETRY  TUDOR 

ninety-seven  in  the  Second  Book  alone.  Now  although  it  may  be 
granted  that  two  men  translating  the  same  poem  tend  to  use  the 
same  expressions  even  in  cases  where  the  verse-form  requires  a  dilu- 
tion of  the  original,  yet  so  large  a  number  can  scarcely  be  explained 
upon  the  theory  of  coincidence.  If  we  were  but  sure  of  our  text,  the 
question  might  be  considered  answered.  But  the  curious  fact  is 
that  the  version  of  the  Fourth  Book,  given  by  the  unpubKshed 
Hargrave  MS.,  is  clearly  much  more  like  the  Douglas  translation 
than  is  the  version  given  by  Tottel.  What  this  signifies  is  not  very 
clear.  Apparently,  after  1553,  Surrey's  work  was  edited  with  the 
Douglas  translation  in  mind.  Therefore  the  case  rests  merely  upon 
the  fact  that  there  are  similarities  between  the  two  versions, 
whether  due  to  Surrey  or  to  another,  and  must  rest  there  until  more 
data  be  given. 

In  comparing  Surrey  with  Douglas,  at  least  we  have  the  ident- 
ity of  phrase  to  guide  us;  in  the  case  of  the  Italian  even  that 
help  is  withdrawn.  In  1539  the  Second  Book  appeared  in  ItaUan 
in  versi  sciolti}  Hippolito,  the  natural  son  of  Giulano,  had  been 
raised  to  the  cardinalate  in  1529.  He  gathered  around  him  a 
court  of  scholars  as  was  the  fashion,  among  whom  was  the  writer 
Molza.  As  the  book  professes  to  be  by  him,  it  must  have  been  com- 
posed before  1535,  the  year  of  his  death,  whether  or  not  he  actu- 
ally wrote  it.  Later,  others  joined  in  translating  separate  books, 
of  which  the  Fourth  is  by  Bartolomeo  C.  Picholomini.  Surrey's 
translation,  then,  if  taken  from  the  Italian,  would  be  dependent 
upon  the  work  of  two  writers,  and  each  book  must  be  considered 
separately.  Dr.  Fest  feels  that  there  is  no  doubt  but  that  Book 
Two  is  drawn  from  the  Italian  and  Dr.  Imelmann  that  at  least  the 
Hargrave  MS.  version,  the  "older"  version,  shows  equal  depend- 
ence upon  Book  Four.^  To  prove  his  position  each  cites  numerous 
Unes  where  both  the  Italian  and  the  EngUsh  agree  in  diluting  the 
original.  For,  since  both  translations  are  in  verse,  a  certain 
amount  of  dilution  is  inevitable.  As  it  is  stated,  with  the  long  ar- 
ray of  confirmatory  passages,  the  conclusion  seems  inevitable.    But 

^  II  secondo  di  Virgilio  in  lingua  volgare,  volto  da  Hippolito  de  Medici  Cardinale. 
(Citta  di  Castello.)  M.  D.  XXXVIIII:  again  in  1540,  1541,  and  1544  as  parts 
of  the  collected  work. 

^  This  supposition  was  originally  suggested  by  Nott  (op.  cU.  CC.)  but  denied  by 
him.    It  owes  its  present  form  to  the  German  scholars. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  537 

a  priori  such  a  conclusion  is  surprising.  To  the  sixteenth  century 
boy  Latin  was  almost  as  familiar  as  his  mother-tongue,  and  of 
all  writers  in  Latin  Vergil  was  probably  the  most  familiar.^  To 
find  a  writer  of  that  age  turning  for  help  to  a  translation  in  a 
foreign  vernacular  is  curious.  One  would  expect  him  to  use  the 
Latin  to  interpret  the  vernacular.  That  Surrey  in  particular  knew 
Italian,  although  he  had  never  been  in  Italy,  is  always  assumed 
from  his  renditions  of  Petrarch;  but  that  he  understood  Italian 
with  anywhere  near  the  facility  with  which  he  understood  Latin 
is  an  idea  that  needs  very  careful  proof  before  it  should  be  accepted. 
On  the  other  hand  the  correspondence  between  the  Surrey  and 
the  Italian  are  evident,  and  it  is  within  the  bounds  of  possibility 
that  he  might  have  seen  the  ItaUan.  The  fact  to  be  explained  is 
that  the  correspondences  are  there.  The  first  and  most  obvious 
explanation  is  that  they  are  due  to  coincidence.  Two  men,  trans- 
lating the  same  piece  into  verse  will  be  apt  to  amplify  in  much 
the  same  way.  Thus  when  the  mens  Hector  of  the  Second  Book 
of  Vergil  (522)  is  amplified  respectively  into  il  nosiro  figlio  and 
Hector  my  son,  on  the  assumption  that  each  translator  needed  an 
extra  foot  in  the  verse,  it  is  not  necessary  to  assume  a  dependence 
of  one  upon  the  other  as  the  additional  matter,  son,  is  impUcit 
in  the  Latin  meus.  This  is  typical  of  many  of  the  correspondences 
collected  by  the  German  scholars.  The  undoubted  effect  pro- 
duced by  their  work  is  due  to  the  accumulation  of  such  minute  de- 
tails, any  one  of  which  is  in  itself  negligible.  Numerous  as  they 
seem  when  so  carefully  listed  and  classified,  the  total  effect  is  also 
negligible  upon  the  translation  as  a  whole  since  they  are  scattered 
through  it  at  long  intervals.^  Yet  however  negligible  they  may 
seem,  the  fact  that  it  is  possible  to  frame  such  a  list  requires  an 
explanation  other  than  mere  coincidence.  We  are  forced  to  the 
dilemma,  that  either  Surrey  was  familiar  with  the  Italian  versions 
or  there  was  a  common  source.  This  common  source,  I  think,  is  to 
be  found  in  the  annotated  editions  of  Vergil.^   Very  early  such  edi- 

*  The  reader  is  referred  back  to  Chapter  IV. 

*  This  is  the  explanation  of  Nott  's  remark :  "  But  aa  there  is  no  similarity  what- 
ever in  style  or  turn  of  expression  between  the  two  translations,  I  am  disposed  to 
think  that  Surrey's  adoption  of  blank  verse  originated  wholly  with  himself."  .  . 
Oj>.  cii.  CC. 

*  They  appear  almost  every  year. 


638  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

tions  began  to  appear.  Moreover,  as  each  editor  tended  to  pre- 
serve such  annotations  of  his  predecessors  as  seemed  to  him  valu- 
able, around  each  Vergilian  phrase  was  gathered  a  mass  of  com- 
mentary. Such  commentary  would  be  followed  in  any  doubtful 
interpretation  by  both  the  Italian  and  Surrey.^ 

At  least  that  would  be  the  usual  course.  Particularly  would  it 
be  true  of  a  man  of  the  sixteenth  century.  And  although  it  is  con- 
ceivable that  before  undertaking  his  translation  Surrey  assembled 
versions  in  other  languages,  such  a  proceeding  would  be  more 
characteristic  of  the  scholarly  pedant  than  of  a  high-spirited  young 
poet  and  man  of  the  world.  Consequently  until  all  the  various 
commentaries  of  Vergil  published  before  the  composition  of  Sur- 
rey's translation  be  examined,  his  indebtedness  to  the  Italian 
should  be  received  with  great  caution.  Supposing  that  by  this 
means  Surrey's  indebtedness  to  the  Italian  be  proved,  the  result 
would  not  be  commensurate  with  the  labor.  As  the  poem  is  clearly 
mature  work,  the  result  of  the  effort  would  be  merely  to  confirm 
what  has  always  been  assumed.    Yet  until  that  is  done,  the  as- 

^  The  edition  I  have  used  is  that  of  Venice  1531  with  the  comments  of  Donatus, 
Landinus,  and  Servins  Maurus.  For  example,  to  the  passage  quoted  above  the 
comment  is:  "Non  si  ipse  mens,  sub  audi  filius  posset  defendere."  Another  il- 
lustration, Surrey's  version  of  the  lines  63-4: 

Undique  visendi  studio  Troiana  inventus 
Circumfusa  ruit,  certantque  inludere  capto^ 

is  (81-B2) 

Near  him,  to  gaze,  the  Trojan  youth  gan  flock. 
And  strave  who  most  might  at  the  captive  scorn. 

Nott  notes  {<yp.  cit.,  403)  "To  scorn,  is  to  insult  at,  to  make  a  mock  of."     The 
HippoUto  version  is 

La  gioventu  Troiana  d'ogn'  intomo 

Sparsa  corre  a  verderlo  a  fanno  a  gara, 

Chi  plu  faccia  al  prigion  vergogna  e  scomo. 

Fest  black-leads  this  with  the  comment:  "Es  ist  durchaus  unwahrscheinlich, 
dass  H.  und  S.  unabhang  ig  zur  Wiedergabe  des  Infinitives  durch  Fragesatz,  die 
sich  fast  wBrtlich  deckt,  gekommen  sind.  'Scorn'  mit  Nott  1403  als  Verb 
aufzufassen,  ist  unrichtig"  (op.  cit.,  57).  The  comment,  in  this  case  of  Servius,  is: 
"Circtlfusa  ruit.  Figura  hypallage,  ruit  &  circdfusa  est.  Illudere  capto.  Et 
illudo  tibi  dicim,  vt  hoc  loco  &  illudo  te.  vt  verbis  virtutfi  illude  supbis  (superbis) 
&  in  te  sil'e  (simile)  est  a  iaulto.  It  is  quite  clear  it  is  not  Nott  that  is  here 
"unrichtig." 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  539 

sumption  of  Surrey's  indebtedness  to  the  Hippolito  version  is  hy- 
pothetical. 

However  unsatisfactorily  vague  may  seem  the  discussion  of  the 
problem  of  the  Second  Book,  the  outlines  are  clearly  drawn  in 
comparison  with  the  questions  involved  in  the  problem  of  the 
Fourth.  For  the  Second  Book  we  have  a  text  admittedly  inferior, 
because  there  is  very  little  doubt  that  it  has  been  edited;  for  the 
Fourth  we  have  three  texts,  which  do  not  agree  among  themselves 
and  the  value  of  any  one  of  which  depends  upon  its  similarity 
to  an  unknown  original.  These  are  (a)  the  Tottel  edition  of  1557, 
reprinted  by  the  Roxburghe  Club  in  1814,  and  the  Fourth  Book 
alone  by  Fest;  (b)  the  Hargrave  MS.  version,  never  printed  at  all, 
but  very  carefully  collated  by  Imelmann;  and  (c)  the  printed 
edition  of  John  Day,  which  exists  today  in  an  unique  copy  at  Brit- 
well  Court,  and  which  has  never  been  either  reprinted  or  collated.^ 
In  the  two  accessible  texts,  the  Tottel  and  the  Hargrave  MS.,  there 
are  certain  curious  differences.  Imelmann  has  shown  that  the 
second  is  more  like  the  Douglas  translation,  and  also  the  Italian 
version  of  Picholomini,  than  is  the  Tottel.^  Granted  that  this 
be  true,  it  is  not  clear  what  it  signifies.  Either  Tottel  changed 
the  text,  or  the  copyist  of  the  Hargrave  MS.  changed  the  text,  or 
(what  is  more  probable)  both  edited  the  manuscripts  that  they 
received.  The  case  is  still  more  complicated  by  the  fact  that,  as 
Imelmann  shows,  there  are  apparent  reminiscences  of  the  Hargrave 
MS.  version  in  Phaer's  translation,  finished  in  April  1556.  But 
there  is  no  proof  that  the  copyist  of  the  Hargrave  MS.  did  not  im- 
prove his  author  in  reference  to  Phaer !  And  these  verbal  similar- 
ities are  not  more  numerous  than  would  happen  by  the  doctrine 

^  Cieariy.  iintil  this  last  be  published,  no  results  can  be  considered  definite. 
'  The  following  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  variants: 

IV.  427.  Nee  patris  Anchisse  cinerem  Manisve  revelli  .  .  . 

Tottel,  560-1 .    Nor  cynders  of  his  father  Anchises 
Disturbed  have,  out  of  his  sepulture. 

Harjfrave  MS.  561-2  Nor  cynders  of  his  father  Anchises 

Disturbed/  ne  pulled/  out  of  his  sepulture. 

Picholomini  12b.    Ne'l  cener  del  suo  padre  Anchise  o  1 'ombre 
Trassi  f  uor  del  sepolcro. 

But  thentf  pulled  is  superimposed  upon  an  aye  crossed  out.     Imelmann, 
opcit..UQ 


i»40  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

of  chance.  We  are  asked  to  accept  hypothesis  piled  upon  hypothe- 
sis, that  Surrey  knew  the  unpublished  Douglas  and  the  accessible 
Italian,  and  that  Phaer  knew  the  unpublished  Surrey  (unless  the 
Britwell  copy  be  like  the  Hargrave  MS.).  It  seems  to  me  that  this 
theory  breaks  of  its  own  weight.  The  correspondences  in  the 
various  versions  are  not  sufficiently  striking;  you  read,  but  you 
remain  unconvinced.  The  one  dominant  idea  you  gain  from  the 
whole  discussion  is  of  the  uncertainty  surrounding  Surrey's  text. 
Until  that  be  determined  any  discussion  of  the  relation  between 
the  different  versions  is  necessarily  futile. 

The  importance  of  this  discussion  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  involves 
the  early  treatment  of  blank  verse.  Upon  analysis,  the  peculiar- 
ities of  blank  verse  may  be  resolved  into  (a)  the  omission  of 
rime;  (b)  the  use  of  pentameter;  and  (c)  the  use  of  the  feet  within 
the  line.  The  first  seems  clearly  due  to  the  influence  of  human- 
ism.^ The  second,  on  the  other  hand,  is  due  to  the  dominance  in 
English  of  the  pentameter  line.  There  is  no  inherent  reason  why 
the  five-accented  line  should  have  been  preferred  to  that  having  six 
accents,  especially  as  the  hexameter  was  the  meter  of  Vergil.  At 
least  so  thought  Surrey  himself  as  shown  by  his  version  of  the  Fifty- 
fifth  Psalm.  But  the  pentameter  line  was  that  used  in  both  the 
rime-royal  and  in  the  heroic  couplet.  It  therefore  had  the  sanc- 
tion of  all  the  great  writers.  Logically,  then,  both  Grimald  and 
Surrey  adopted  it.  This  represents  the  working  of  the  English 
tradition.  But  for  the  treatment  within  the  lines  Surrey  especially 
claimed  the  full  measure  of  freedom  in  the  placing  of  his  accents. 
As  in  the  case  of  the  Fifty-fifth  Psalm,  here  also,  he  writes  by 
ear.  So  long  as  there  be  the  five  stresses  in  the  line,  the  feet  may 
take  care  of  themselves.  One  of  the  favorite  openings  is  a  stressed 
syllable,  followed  by  two  unaccented  syllables:  ^ 

Coldest  thou  h6pe?     Untirat  to  Idve  my  14nd? 

Usually  after  such  an  opening  the  line  becomes  iambic,  but  it  may 
be  as  irregular  as  ^ 

F6r  to  prep&re,  and  drive  to  the  sea  c6ast. 

If  this  be  the  reading,  it  is  clear  that  the  number  of  syllables, 

while  usually  ten,  is  of  minor  importance.      This  explains  Nott's 

1  See  ante  356  flF.  *  Bk.  IV,  397  (Fest).  »  Bk.  IV,  374  (Fest). 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  541 

hypothesis  that  Surrey  left  the  work  unfinished,  because  a  number 
of  the  Hnes  do  not  scan  according  to  the  strict  iambic  measure.' 
But  this  is  in  consonance  with  the  principles  of  the  Medieval  Latin 
as  practiced  in  Enghsh.^  The  danger  of  this  method  is  at  once 
obvious; the  freedom  may  degenerate  into  license,  and  lines  be 
produced  that  are  verse  by  courtesy  only.^  Consequently  under 
the  lead  of  humanism  there  was  exerted  a  steady  pressure  to  make 
the  Unes  more  "regular."  The  humanist  critics  objected  to  Sur- 
rey's feet  that  they  lacked  "  true  quantities. "  Their  position  may 
be  best  illustrated  by  Ascham,  who,  it  will  be  remembered, 
desired  unrimed  iambic  verse  in  imitation  of  the  "perfect 
Grecians. "  * 

The  noble  Lord  Th.  Earle  of  Surrey,  first  of  all  English  men,  in  translating  the 
fourth  booke  of  Virgill:  and  Gonsaluo  Periz  that  excellent  learned  man,  and  Secre- 
tarie  to  kyng  Philip  of  Spaine,  in  translating  the  Vlisses  of  Homer  out  of  Greke  into 
Spanish,  haue  both,  by  good  iudgement,  auoyded  the  fault  of  Ryming,  yet  neither 
of  them  hath  fuIUe  hit(t)e  perfite  and  trew  versifying.  Indeed,  they  obserue  iust 
number,  and  euen  feete:  but  here  is  the  fault,  their  feete:  be  feete  without  ioyntes, 
that  is  to  say,  not  distinct  by  trew  quan title  of  sillabes:  And  so,  soch  feete,  be 
but  numme  (benunmied)  feete:  and  be,  euen  as  vnfitte  for  a  verse  to  tume  and 
runne  roundly  withall,  as  feete  of  brasse  or  wood  be  vnweeldie  to  go  well  withall. 
And  as  a  foote  of  wood,  is  a  plaine  shew  of  a  maifest  maime,  euen  so  feete,  in  our 
English  versifying,  without  quantitie  and  ioyntes,  be  sure  signes,  that  the  verse  is 
either,  borne  deformed,  vnnaturall  and  lame,  and  so  verie  vnseemlie  to  looke  vpon, 
except  to  men  that  be  gogle  eyed  them  selues. 

This  passage  must  mean  that,  while  the  number  of  syllables  in  the 
line  is  normally  correct,  the  placing  of  the  stress  is  such  that  feet 
in  the  classical  sense  cannot  be  formed  from  them.^  But  this 
freedom  in  placing  the  stress  is  characteristic  of  all  our  great  blank 
verse.  And  the  reason  why  in  the  history  of  the  literature  blank 
verse  is  so  late  in  developing  is  because  it  thus  combines  in  itself 

'  Some  of  them  certainly  read  like  alexandrines. 
»  Ante  145  ff. 

*  Some  of  the  authors  of  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates,  Cavyl  for  instance,  wrote 
lines  that  defy  any  known  rules  for  scansion. 

*  A.scham's  SchoUmaster,  Arber's  Reprint,  147-8. 

*  This  may  be  the  explanation  for  the  divergence  of  the  texts  of  Surrey,  that 
each  editor  in  varying  degrees  tried  to  remodel  the  work  along  humanistic 
lines. 


542  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

so  many  utterly  diverse  and  antagonistic  elements.  Before  it 
could  be  written  an  author  must  have  arisen  who  in  himself  com- 
bined the  movements  of  the  English  tradition,  the  Medieval  Latin, 
and  humanism.  Logically  such  a  combination  was  not  possible 
until  the  second  generation  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII,  the  gener- 
ation of  the  Earl  of  Surrey. 

It  is  this  union  of  the  separate  influences  that  makes  Surrey's 
work  so  important.  It  is  possible,  even,  to  choose  single  poems  in 
which  any  one  of  the  various  movements  seems  to  dominate.  For 
example,  a  characteristic  of  the  English  tradition,  inherited  from 
Chaucer,  is  to  be  found  in  the  feeling  toward  nature,  shown  by 
concrete  allusions.  Surrey's  Description  of  Spring  may  be  cited  in 
illustration:  ^ 

The  soote  season,  that  bud  and  blome  f  urth  bringes 
With  grene  hath  clad  the  hill  and  eke  the  vale; 
The  nightingale  with  f ethers  new  she  sings: 
The  turtle  to  her  make  hath  tolde  her  tale: 
Somer  is  come,  for  euery  spray  nowe  springes. 
The  hart  hath  hong  his  olde  hed  on  the  pale: 
The  buck  in  brake  his  winter  cote  he  flinges: 
The  fishes  flote  with  newe  repaired  scale: 
The  adder  all  her  sloughe  awaye  she  slinges: 
The  swift  swalow  pursueth  the  flyes  smale: 
The  busy  bee  her  honye  now  she  minges: 
Winter  is  wome  that  was  the  flowers  bale: 
And  thus  I  see  among  these  pleasant  thinges 
Eche  care  decayes,  and  yet  my  sorow  springes. 

Here  even  the  language  shows  its  dependence  upon  the  earlier 
English  writers;  such  words  as  soote  (sweet),  make  (mate)  and 
ming  (remember)  ^  prove  Surrey  a  student  of  English.  This  is  not 
an  imitation  of  Chaucer  or  Lydgate,  but  one  feels  that,  had  they 
not  written,  the  poem  would  have  been  quite  diflFerent.  The  same 
is  true  also  of  its  content.  It  is  a  catalogue  of  the  signs  of  an  Eng- 
lish spring.  For  the  sake  of  comparison  to  bring  out  this  very  im- 
portant point  the  corresponding  sonnet  of  Petrarch  is  here  given:  ^ 

^  Tattel's  Miscdlany,  Arber's  Reprint,  4. 

'  It  may  be  worth  while  to  correct  the  old  Aldine  edition  of  Surrey  on  the  authority 
at  the  N.  E.  D.    Ming  does  not  mean  "mingle." 
'  Sonnet  CCCX. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  548 

Zefiro  toma,  e*l  bel  tempo  rimena, 

E  i  fiori  e  Terbe,  sua  doice  famiglia, 

E  garrir  Progne  e  pianger  Filomena, 

E  primavera  Candida  e  vermiglia. 
Bidono  i  prati,  e'l  ciel  si  rasserena: 

Giove  s'allegra  di  mirar  sua  figlia; 

L'aria  a  I'acqua  e  la  terra  h  d'amor  plena: 

Ogni  animal  d'amar  si  riconsiglia. 
Ma  per  me,  lasso!,  tomano  i  pid  gravi 

Sospori,  che  del  cor  profondo  tragge 

Quella  ch'al  ciel  se  ne  portd  le  chiavi; 
E  cantar  augelletti,  e  fiorir  piagge, 

E'n  belle  donne  oneste  atti  soavi, 

Sono  un  deserto,  e  fere  aspre  e  selvagge. 

These  two  poems  lend  themselves  perfectly  to  the  comparison*, 
they  are  identical  in  both  length  and  subject.  Yet  the  dissimi- 
larity is  striking.  The  conventional  generalizations  of  the  Italian, 
the  classical  reminiscence  in  Progne,  Filomena,  and  Giove,  and  the 
conceited  close,  contrast  markedly  with  the  concrete  detail  in  the 
English,  such  detail,  be  it  noted  in  passing,  as  would  come  to  the 
eye  of  a  young  Englishman,  fond  of  the  out-of-doors.  This  char- 
acteristic trait,  to  embody  within  the  verse  observations  of  nature, 
was  learned  surely  of  his  English  predecessors,  and  not  from  the 
Italian  poet;  one  has  but  to  visit  Vaucluse  to  realize  how  inade- 
quate an  impression  of  the  spectacular  beauty  of  the  place  is  given 
by  Petrarch's  enamelled  phrases.  In  Surrey  the  content  surely 
is  English.  But  if  in  the  preceding  poem  the  content  be  English, 
the  form  surely  is  not.  The  elaborate  simplicity  of  the  rime- 
scheme,  three  quatrains  abab  with  a  final  couplet  cc,  recall  rather 
the  Medieval  Latin.  Consequently  in  Surrey's  works  careful 
analysis  can  show  the  traces  of  all  four  of  the  great  dominating 
impulses  of  literature.  It  is  this  union  of  forces  which  have  ap- 
peared in  the  earUer  writers  that  makes  tlie  poetry  of  the  gener- 
ation exemplified  in  Surrey  so  important. 

It  is  this  factor,  rather  than  mere  verse-technique,  that  caused 
the  esteem  in  which  Surrey  was  held  by  the  Elizabethans.  For  one 
reason,  the  language  had  settled  into  its  modern  form.  Whereas, 
even  in  Wyatt,  the  romance  accent  was  still  current,  it  is  rare  in 
Surrey.  To  assume  that  the  romance  accent  disappeared  because 
of  his  dislike,  is  to  attribute  much  more  influence  to  his  writings 
than  the  facts  seem  to  warrant.    Actually  it  is  more  logical  to  as- 


544  EARLY  TUDOR  POETRY 

sume  that  he  wrote  the  language  as  he  found  it,  and  the  innova- 
tions attributed  to  him  belong  equally  to  all  his  contemporaries.* 
It  was  chronology,  rather  than  genius,  that  rejected  the  older 
forms.  But  much  the  same  reasoning  applies  to  verse  forms.  In 
Surrey's  work  are  first  developed  several  of  the  forms  used  later, 
such  as  the  Elizathan  sonnet,  and  his  use  of  others  than  new,  such 
as  poulter's  measure,  probably  gave  them  currency.  Yet  here 
again  he  was  following  the  lines  of  least  resistance.  It  was  Sur- 
rey's fortune,  rather  than  his  merit,  that  in  his  work  are  crystallized 
the  beginnings  of  modern  English  literature.  And  it  was  equally 
the  good  fortune  of  the  age  that  it  found  in  Surrey  a  writer  that 
could  so  crystalUze  them.  Because  of  the  junction  of  the  time 
and  the  man,  the  result  is  that  Surrey's  work  marks  an  epoch,  the 
hne  of  cleavage  between  the  old  and  the  new. 

This  is  primarily  because  in  Surrey  we  find  for  the  first  time  the 
author  clearly  transcending  his  medium.  He  writes  what  he  wishes 
to  write  as  he  wishes  to  write  it, — not  because  he  is  constrained  to 
any  given  form  inherited  from  the  past,  or  borrowed  from  Europe. 
For  the  first  time  since  Chaucer  the  reader  feels  the  personal  note. 
Even  Skelton's  powerful  personality  dashes  to  pieces  against  his  ac- 
quired forms,  and  he  remains  unread,  and  Wyatt's  innate  nobiUty 
petrifies  in  the  Italian  formula.  But  in  Surrey ,^s  in  Chaucer,  there 
is  a  light  touch.  When  Lady  Hertford  refused  to  dance  with  him, 
he  describes  the  scene  with  details  that  are  intentionally  comic.^ 
The  idea  of  personifying  the  participants  by  their  armorial  animals 
gives  the  ridiculous  picture  of  the  lion  rampart  "prancing"  and 
beating  his  tail.  Or,  another  example  is  his  charming  poem  that 
childhood  is  the  happiest  period  of  a  man's  life, — with  the  ironic 
pathos  added  that  to  our  modem  eyes  the  author  himself  was  still 
a  young  man  at  his  death,  in  spite  of  the  "white  and  hoarish  hairs  " 
"the  messengers  of  age."  His  pieces  to  his  wife  seem  of  genuine 
lyric  quality,  without  the  Petrarchan  conventionality  and  hack- 
neyed phrasing.  It  is  easy  to  believe  that  in  his  time  of  trial  she 
remained  faithful  to  him.  The  famous  illustration  is  of  course  the 
poem  written  from  Windsor.    Without  accepting  the  superlative 

^  These  innovations  have  been  carefully  analysed  by  Courthope,  History  oj 
English  Poetry,  London  1904,  92-100.    Therefore  I  shall  not  repeat  them  here. 

*  I  cannot  take  this  poem  seriously  as  does  M.  Bapst,  op.  eil.,  371-4,  although 
certainly  Surrey  was  distinctly  irritated  by  the  incident. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY  545 

employed  by  Professor  Courthope,^  the  charm  is  at  once  apparent. 
This  charm,  however,  arises  not  from  the  splendor  of  the  verse 
nor  from  the  easy  handling  of  a  conventional  situation,  but  it  is 
due  to  the  use  of  such  detail  that  the  reader  is  convinced  of  the 
actuality.  While  the  lads  below  are  playing  tennis  on  the  green 
courts,  the  girls  are  watching  them  from  the  leads  of  the  Maiden's 
Tower.  Such  a  scene  must  have  occurred  many  many  times,  or 
the  tournaments, 

On  foaming  horse,  with  swords  and  friendly  hearts. 

For  the  moment  you  breathe  the  air  of  merry  England  in  the  reign 
of  bluff  King  Hal !  But  of  what  other  writer  of  the  age  may  this 
be  said?  Others  may  interest  us  by  the  quaintness  of  their  senti- 
ments or  the  power  of  their  verse,  but  they  are  dead.  Surrey  alone 
lives. 

Surrey's  poetry,  therefore,  shows  the  culmination  of  forces  that 
had  been  at  work  for  nearly  three  quarters  of  a  century.  Uncon- 
scious of  his  place  and  blind  to  the  law,  each  writer  had  contrib- 
uted his  part  to  the  making  of  English  literature.  Each  had  writ- 
ten as  seemed  good  to  him,  limited  by  his  particular  past  and  con- 
ditioned by  his  own  personality.  Each  had  written,  as  we  write, 
for  the  vital  present;  no  more  than  we,  had  they  power  to  foresee 
the  future.  Nevertheless,  each  in  his  own  way,  had  laid  the  founda- 
tions for  the  great  literature  of  the  coming  age.  Poetry  was  ready 
for  the  master's  hand,  because  the  prentice  work  had  already  been 
done.  Early  Tudor  literature  is  primarily  interesting,  therefore, 
because  it  is  prentice  work, — because  in  this  period,  more  clearly 
than  in  any  other,  is  to  be  seen  the  working  of  literary  law. 

'  "I  know  of  few  verses  in  the  whole  range  of  human  poetry  in  which  the  voice 
of  nature  utters  the  accents  of  grief  with  more  simplicity  and  truth;  it  seems  to  me 
to  be  the  most  pathetic  personal  elegy  in  English  poetry."    Op.  cit.,  1,  85. 


INDEX 


Abel.  Walter,  402 

Abelard,  121,  124 

Abingdon  Abbey,  322 

Academy,  333 

Act  of  the  Six  Articles,  887 

Act  regulating  printing,  488 

Addison,  J.,  on  ballads,  325;  on  Para- 
dise Lost,  324 

Ad  Herenmum,  141;  quoted,  131  (note) 

Aeneas  Silvius,  see  Piccolomini 

Alamanni.  Luigi,  476-477;  II  Diluvio 
Romano,  353;  satire,  /  vi  diro,  quoted, 
478;  on  blank  verse,  quoted,  354 
(note);  mentioned,  480,  483 

Alberti,  Leon  Battista,  322 

Albertus  Magnus,  121 

Alcock,  John,  mentioned  by  Barclay, 
245,  246,  247;  reputed  author  of 
Castle  of  Labour,  426 

Alcuin,  128 

Aldus,  260,  263 

Aliene  didionis  introditctio,  137 

Allegory,  erotic,  62-74;  moral,  74-92 

Allen,  H.  Warner,  CeUstina,  365 

Allen,  John,  427,  429 

Allen,  P.  S.,  Age  of  Erasmus,  19;  Erasmi 
Epistolae,  279 

Ammonius,  27 

Andersen,  Hans  C,  413,  496 

Andrd,  Bernard.  418,  419 

Andrelinus,  Faustus,  282 

Andrews,  Laurens,  128,  409 

Anglia,  150 

Anne  of  Cleves,  383 

Anonymous,  What  our  lives  render,  524; 
Who  craftily  casta,  527;  The  vnsest 
vxty,  529 

Apollo  of  Corinth.  172 

Apulcius,  262 

Aquinas,  St.  ThomaA.  121.  295 


Arber,  Edward.  78.  89,  128,  150,  207, 
208,  212,  344  (note) 

Arber's  Reprints,  344,  530 

d'Arc,  Jeanne,  434 

Architectural  development  in  Renais- 
sance, 6 

Aretino,  Pietro;  his  life,  480;  Humaniid 
di  Crista,  481;  /  Sette  Salmi,  481; 
RaggiaTnenti,  17;  mentioned,  286, 
380,  483,  514 

Ariosto,  Ludovico,  quoted,  66;  in- 
fluenced Wyatt,  456-457  (note); 
mentioned,  456 

Aristophanes,  sold  by  Dome,  281 

Aristotle,  Ethics,  263;  sold  by  Dome, 
281;  mentioned,  141 

Aristotle,  the  senile,  83 

Armonye  of  Byrdes,  149 

Arnold's  Chronicle,  153 

Ars  Rithmica,  125 

Art,  development,  6 

Art  of  Memory,  499 

Arthur,  Thomas,  201 

Arthurian  Legend,  325 

Arundel,  Mistress,  511 

Ascham,  Roger,  friend  of  Elyot,  306; 
tutor,  306;  knows  Fourth  Book  of 
Aeneid,  356;  description  of  Elizabeth, 
389-340;  description  of  Lady  Jane 
Grey,  20,  339;  origin  of  Scholemaster, 
830;  influenced  by  Cheke,  305;  gives 
theory  of  the  humanists,  307;  his 
apology  for  writing  in  English,  332; 
his  opinion  on  archery,  315;  on  blank 
verse,  356;  on  classic  culture,  317;  on 
dancing,  316;  on  exercises,  814;  on 
Greek,  818;  on  immorality,  18;  on 
morality,  310;  on  purism  in  speech. 
327;  on  reading,  323,  324;  on  sports. 
815;  on  style.  144;  on  teaching,  327; 


547 


548 


INDEX 


on  Surrey,  541 ;  on  writing  in  English, 
268;  mentioned,  20,  305,  506. 

Asconius,  262 

Assembly  of  Ladies,  65-68;  added  by 
Thynne,  65;  feminism  displayed,  65; 
French  mottoes,  65;  gorgeous  cos- 
tumes, 67;  plot,  65;  rejected  by 
Tyrwhit,  65 

Assertio  Septem  Sacramentorum,  386 

Athenae  Canlabrigienses,  93 

Athenae  Oxonienses,  75 

Athletics,  314 

Aulus  Gellius,  sold  by  Dome,  281; 
mentioned,  157 

Aureate  language,  139;  used  by  Skelton, 
162 

Ausonius,  344 

Awdeley,  J.,  153 

Babington,  Churchill,  168,  169 

Bacon,  Francis,  compared  to  Vives,  303; 
Henry  VII,  418 

Bacon,  Roger,  2 

Bailey,  N.,  310 

Bale,  John,  Index  Britanniae  Scripto- 
rum,  427;  Scriptorum  lUustrium 
Maioris  Brytanniae,  209  (note); 
method  of  compilation,  350;  Barclay's 
authorship  of  Castle  of  Labour,  426- 
427;  omits  Bryan,  378;  on  Grimald, 
351;  on  Hawes,  75;  on  Roye,  209;  on 
Skelton,  94;  mentioned,  158,  260,  379, 
390 

Baliol,  236 

Ballad-literature  omitted,  39 

Ballard's  Memoirs  of  Several  Ladies,  339 

Balue,  Cardinal,  192 

Bandello,  17,  406 

Bapst,  Edmond,  Deux  Gentilshommes 
Pontes  de  la  Cour  de  Henry  VIII.  509, 
510,  511,  515,  616,  517,  533,  644 

Barbican,  The,  226-227 

Barclay,  Alexander,  237-256;  A  Lover's 
Confession,  54;  Castle  of  Labour,  51, 
426-427;  Eclogues,  147,  238-248,  252, 
253;  Towre  of  Vertue  and  Honour, 
247,    531;   Ship   of  Fools,    248-250; 


quoted,  39,  131,  172  (note);  men- 
tioned, 52, 130,  228,  382,  436;  Barclay 
on  disordered  love,  249;  e  final,  51; 
French  vocabulary,  420-421;  uni- 
versities, 382;  verse-forms,  249; 
voyages,  33;  compared  with  Elyot, 
309;  Skelton,  99-100,  170;  ViUon, 
438;  Wyatt,  480;  mentioned  171,  217, 
259,  281  (note),  479,  483,  499 

Barlow,  George,  Dean  of  Westbury, 
514  (note) 

Barlow,  Jerome,  Rede  m^  and  Be  nott 
Wrothe,  208-212,  400-401 

Barlow,  William,  210  (note) 

Barnes,  207,  389 

Battle  Abbey,  322 

Beatus  Rhenanus,  261 

Belief  in  Future  Life,  Greek,  5 

Bembo,  Cardinal,  380 

Benivieni,  Girolamo,  318 

Bennet,  James,  268 

Benson,  Rev.  R.  H.,  307 

Berkeley,  Thomas  Lord,  168 

Bernard,  Saint,  121 

Bemsdorf,  Cornelia,  301 

Bemers,  Lord,  see  Bouchier 

Bertaut,  R6n6,  373 

Bible,  Coverdale's,  401;  objections  to 
in  English,  392 

Bibliot6que  Erasmiana,  280 

Bijvanck,  W.  G.  C,  431 

Bilney,  Thomas,  201,  207 

Black  Death,  28 

Blank  verse,  origin,  353-360;  Grimald's, 
355;  Surrey's,  354,  534-542 

Bloch,  Dr.  Ivan,  28 

Boccaccio,  Giovanni,  his  theory  of 
poetry,  76;  mentioned,  157,  472 

Boethius,  157 

Boileau,  421 

Boleyn,  Anne;  life,  461-462;  attacked 
by  plague,  27;  relations  with  Henry 
VIII,  265,  388;  with  Wyatt,  461-467; 
French  influence,  444;  mentioned,  29, 
383,  418,  484,  509,  515 

Boleyn,  George,  Lord  Rochford,  29, 
345.  486 


INDEX 


549 


Boleyn,  Mary,  27,  216,  461 

Boleyn,  Thomas,  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  29, 
862 

Bond,  R.  W.,  373 

Bonner,  Edmund,  362,  402 

Booget  of  Demands,  499 

Borgia,  Cesare,  16 

Bosworth  Field,  Battle  of,  48 

Bouge  of  Court,  14 

Bourbon,  Conn^table  de,  456 

Bourchier,  Henry,  Earl  of  Essex,  29 

Bourchier,  John,   Lord   Bemers,   369- 
377;    Ambassador    to    Spain,    362 
portrait,    371;    his   geography,    494 
style,  374;  dating  of  his  works,  371 
his  works,  369,  493-498;  Arthur  of 
Liale  Britain,  370,  494;  Castle  of  Love, 
372;  Golden  Book  of  Marcus  Aurelius, 
373-377;    Froissart,    372,    493-494; 
Huon    of   Burdeux,    494-498;    men- 
tioned, 417,  447 

Bradley,  Henry,  175,  177  (note) 

Bradshaw.  Henry,  118,  254,  255 

Brandon,  Charles,  266,  388.  465 

Brandt,  Sebastian,  248;  mentions  uni- 
versities, 382;  see  Narrenschiff 

Brantdme,  17 

Brewer,  J.  S.,  History  of  the  Reign  of 
Henry  VIII.  8,  26,  27.  193,  198;  see 
Calendar  of  State  Papers 

Brie,  F.  W.  D.,  EuUnspigel  in  England, 
405,  410,  411  (note);  Gaguin,  171 
(note);  Hundred  Mery  Tales,  406 
(note);  Skelion-Studien,  92  (note), 
101,  173  (note),  201  (note),  417 

Bromyard.  406 

Brooke,  C.  F.  Tucker,  103 

Brown,  Rawdon,  Calendar  of  Slate 
Papers  .  .  .  in  Venice,  44;  Four 
Years  at  the  Court  of  Henry  VIII,  38 

Brownmg.  E.  B.,  91 

Bruneti^re,  F.,  422 

Bruno,  24 

Bruyant.  Jean.  426,  429 

Bryan,  Sir  Francis.  377-8;  "Vicar  of 
Hell."  877;  his  repuUtion.  378; 
friend  of  Wyatt,  479;  account  of  in 


Hall.  377;  French  influence,  442; 
poetry,  345;  Dispraise  of  the  Life  of  a 
Courtier,  379;  Wyatt's  satire  to  him, 
878;  the  Golden  Book  suggested  by 
him,  369;  mentioned,  69 

Buckingham,  Duke  of,  Henry,  Earl  of 
Strafford,  his  dinner,  14;  his  ward- 
robe, 12;  execution,  508;  mentioned, 
348 

Buckingham,  Duke  of,  George  Villiers, 
Dryden's  satire  on,  174 

Budaeus  (Bud6),  302,  364 

Buffon,  401 

Bullein,  Wm.,  195 

Bullock,  Henry,  284 

Burckhardt's  Diary,  17 

Burgos,  Martmez  de,  379,  380 

Burkart  on  Hawes,  75,  89 

Bums,  Robert,  326 

Burrows,  M.,  260 

Busch,  Wilhelm,  39 

Byron,  George,  174 

Caesar,  262,  263 

Caius,  Dr.,  quoted,  26 

Ccdembour,  origin  of  word,  410 

Calendar  of  State  Papers,  ed.  Brewer, 
187,  189,  207,  210,  446 

Calmeta,  Vicentio,  474-475 

Calvin,  John,  36,  503 

Cambridge  History  of  English  Litera- 
ture, 104  (note),  154 

Camden's  Remains,  256 

Camden  Society.  369 

Cammelli.  see  Pistoia 

Campeggio.  Cardinal.  388 

Capella.  Martlanus.  82,  92 

Capelli,  A..  467 

CapiUdi,  18 

"  Captain  Cox's  Library,"  499 

Carew.  442 

Carew.  Lady  Elizabeth.  369 

Carmina  Clericorum,  149 

Carthusians.  390 

Cary.  William.  27 

Castle  of  Ixihour,  see  Barclay 

Casuum  mutatio,  138 


550 


INDEX 


Catullus,  213,  261.  262,  319,  348 

Caveat  or  Warning  for  Common  Cur- 
gitors,  227 

Cavendish,  George,  Life  of  Wolaey,  14, 
420 

Cavyl,  541 

Cawood,  499 

Caxton,  William,  works  printed  by  him, 
490;  Book  of  Curtesye,  55;  quoted  56; 
Aeneid{?),  281;  Eneydos,  quoted,  52, 
201;  his  version  of  Image  du  Monde, 
82;  Mirrour  of  the  World,  quoted,  83; 
Longer  Accidence,  409;  Morte  Darthur, 
490-493;  Polychronicon,  169;  Recueil 
des  histories  de  Troye,  487;  Reynard 
the  Fox,  384  (note);  his  opinion  of 
Chaucer,  quoted,  55;  of  Lydgate, 
quoted,  56;  his  address  to  Skelton,  93; 
opinion  of  Skelton,  156,  233;  echoed 
by  Skelton,  160  (note);  his  social  po- 
sition, 488;  his  literary  position,  262 

Celestina,  365-8;  editions  of,  365  (note); 
date,  365 

Cellini,  B.,  456 

Cent  Nouvelles  Nouvelles,  406,  412 

Chalcondylas,  236 

Chalmer's  English  Poets,  139 

Chandler,  259 

Change  in  pronunciation,  50 

Chappell,  Popular  Music,  98 

Chapuis,  463,  466,  509 

Chariteo,  475 

Charles  V  of  Spain,  264,  266 

Charles  VIII  of  France,  17,  416 

Chatelaio,  Henri,  439  (note) 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  works  read,  56; 
editions  of,  59,  116-117;  Canterbury 
Tales,  Prologue,  50.  231;  Clerkes  Tale, 
154;  Tale  of  Melibeus,  497;  Nonnes 
Preestes  Tale,  497;  meeting  with 
Petrarch,  236;  used  as  model.  50;  not 
sold  by  Dome.  281;  his  reputation, 
116;  his  versification  lost,  54;  casual 
mention,  130  (note),  155,  157,  160, 
214,  231,  255,  324,  325,  416,  505,  506, 
523,  542,  544 

Chaucer,  derivatives  from,  416 


Chaucerian  apooypha,  59  U. 

Cheke,  Sir  John,  305,  318 

Cheney,  Sir  Thomas,  462 

Chertsey  Abbey,  322 

Chevy  Chase,  325 

ChUd,  H.  H.,  358 

Chivalry,  91 

Christening  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  29 

Churchyard,  Thomas,  345 

Cicero,  157,  262,  263,  281,  351 

Ciceronianism,  328 

Clement  VII,  266 

Cleveland,  John,  251  (note) 

Clewners,  227 

Clifford,  Berthold,  516  (note) 

Cobham,  Lord,  465 

Cock  Lorell,  historicity  of,  225  (note) 

Cock  Lorrelles  Bote,  222-225;  quoted, 

228;  compared  with  Eye  Way,  228 
Coleridge,  S.  T.,  264 
Colet,  John,   158.  236.  259,  260,  264, 

280,    285;    "Gratian    Pullus,"    294; 

Barclay's    allusion    to,    236;    founds 

St.  Paul's  School,  300 
Colin  Clout,  see  Skelton 
Collectanea,  Oxford  Historical  Society, 

260 
Colleges,  Tudor,  301 
Collier,  J.  P.,  410  (note) 
Colonna,  Giovanni,  471 
Colores,  130  ff. 
Columbus,  32  ff. 
Comparetti,  235 
Comets,     medieval    interpretation    of, 

24 
Comperta,  390 
Compositio,  136 
Compton,  Sir  William,  27 
Cond€  Jean  de,  73 
Confessvo  Gdiardi,  149 
Conflictus,  128,  165,  206,  398,  407 
Conon,  317 
Constantinople,  236 
Constantyne,  George,  511,  514 
Consultatio  Sacredotum,  129 
Conti,  Giusti  de',  472 
Contrarii  posilio,  137 


INDEX 


551 


Contrast  between  Christian  and  pagan 
ethics,  3 

Cook.  A.  S.,  395 

Copemican  theory,  23 

Copland,  Robert,  Hye  xcay  to  the  Sjnttcd 
Rous,  228;  Jyl  of  Brentford,  the  pro- 
logue, 433;  Kalendar  of  Shepherds, 
500;  prints  Howleglas,  410;  French 
influence  of,  502 

Copland,  William,  499,  433 

Cornish,  Thomas,  427  (note) 

Comysshe,  135,  165,  345,  419,  486 

Cortez,  34 

Cotton,  Charles,  524 

Courthope,  W.  J.,  82,  104  (note),  516, 
545  (note) 

Courtney,  Henry,  29 

Court  of  Love,  68-74;  architectural 
details,  70;  attitude  toward  religion, 
71-72;  dating,  68;  forgery,  68;  imita- 
tion of  Chaucer,  70;  literary  value, 
74;  Matins  of  the  Birds,  73;  morality, 
71;  plot,  69;  mentioned,  92.  115,  254 

Court  of  Sapience,  81 

Coverdale,  Miles,  401^04;  his  BiUe, 
401;  Gostely  Psalms,  401,  481 

Cranmer,  Archbishop,  29,  462,  515 

Crane,  Professor,  324,  497 

Cretin,  422,  423  (note) 

Crofts,  H.  H.  S.  L.,  304,  307  (notes  1,  2) 

Cromwell,  Oliver,  22 

Cromwell,  Richard,  117-118,  305,  348, 
383.  385,  388,  464,  465,  471,  508,  509, 
515,  517 

Croy,  Henri  de,  422 

Cuer  d'amours  Spris,  82 

Culinary  art,  15 

Culture,  Greek,  16 

Cum  conaonatia  sequents  immediaU,  151 

Cunliffe,  John  W.,  531 

Dancing.  315-16 
Daniel.  Samuel.  460 
Dante,  77.  285.  456,  457.  483 
Darcy.  Lord.  29.  517 
Dibat  du  Seigneur  du  oour  et  du  Seigneur 
des  champs,  243 


Defense    el    illustration    de   la   langue 

frangaise,  17,  442 
Defoe,  Daniel,  514  (note) 
Delia  Crusca,  333 
Derby,  Count  of,  509 
Deschamps,  Eustace,  422,  431 
Dialogue    between    Lupset    and    Pole, 

quoted,  21 
Dibdin,  T.  P.,  264 
Dictionum  debita  derivatio,  136 
Dictioni  similtudinis  adjunctio,  137 
Diotrephes,  400  (note) 
Divorce,  462  (note) 
Doesborgh,  Jan  van,  409,  500 
Dome,  J.,  sales,  281;  sales  of  Erasmus, 

281;    Arnold's   Chronicle,    154;    Nul- 

browne  Mayd,  154 
Douglas,  Gawin,  416,  534,  535 
Douze  triomphes  de  Henry  VII,  418-419 
Dragon,  Hawes'  description  of  quoted, 

85 
Drake,  Raff.  135 
Drayton,  M.,  378,  460,  516 
Dreves,  124 
Droyn,  382 
Dryden,  John,  Absalom  and  Achitophel, 

173;   Preface  to  Fables,  quoted.   51; 

Flower  and  the  Leaf,  325;  Hind  and 

the  Panther,  106;  Mac  Flecknoe,  226- 

227;  mentioned,  333 
DuBellay,  French  ambassador,  26 
DuBellay,  Joachim,  451 
Duemler,  Emestus,  123 
Duff,  E.  Gordon,  Castle  of  Labour,  426; 

Century  of  the  English  Book   Trade, 

488,  502;  Caxton's  works.  490  (note); 

Salomon  and  Marcolphus,  408 
Dunbar.  416.  417  (note) 
Dunlop.  495 
Duns  Scotus.  295.  302 
Dyce.  Alexander.  162 
Dysart,  Lord.  76 

e  final.  50 

Early  English  Drama  Society,  256 

Edmond,  J.  P.,  222 

Education.  49.  295,  209 


55Z 


INDEX 


Education  of  women,  S3S-S41 

Edward  VI,  463 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  Ascham's  descrip- 
tion of,  339;  leammg  of,  339;  legit- 
imacy of,  462;  mentioned,  517 

Elyot,  Sir  Thomas,,  304-805;  studied 
with  Linacre,  305,  305  (note); 
relations  with  More,  305;  compared 
to  Barclay,  309;  reasons  for  author- 
ship, 308;  The  Gouemour,  Croft's 
edition,  38,  304;  origin  of  Image  of 
Gouemance,  306;  Elyot's  opinion  of 
dancing,  316;  of  exercise,  313;  of 
expurgated  works,  320;  of  Greek,  318; 
his  method,  304;  on  reading,  317; 
on  sports,  314;  on  teaching,  326,  329; 
on  the  vernacular,  331;  mentioned, 
337,  375. 

Emerton,  Ephraim,  279,  310. 

English  Poets.  A.  Chalmers,  134;  S. 
Johnson,  134 

English  Sweating  Sickness,  26 

Envoy  of  Alison,  130,  139 

Epitaffe  of  Jasper  Duke  of  Bedford, 
129  ff. 

Epistcia  ad  Herennium,  see  Ad  Heren- 
nium 

Epistolae  Obscurorum  Virorunit  167, 
218,  281,  295,  364,  382 

Equivocaiio,  136 

Erasmus,  Desiderius,  27&-294;  his 
visit  to  the  royal  household,  43,  234; 
Elyot.  307;  Skelton,  181,  185,  234; 
Vives,  302-303  (notes);  his  relation 
with  the  humanists,  236,  260;  editions, 
280;  sales,  281,  282;  popularity  of 
separate  works,  282;  Ckiliades,  305; 
Colloquies,  288-291,  206,  881,  899; 
Advlescens  et  Scorfum,  288;  Diversoria, 
283;  lxOvo<i>vyia,  810  (note),  Nau- 
fragium,  283;  Copia,  316;  Dialogus 
de  Pronunciatione,  299;  Enchiridion, 
285;  Epistles,  259;  Julius  Exdusus, 
282  (note);  De  laudibus  Briianniae, 
234;  New  Testament,  288,  892;  ver- 
sions used  by  Tyndale,  392;  Praise  of 
FoUy,  28d-287,  296-299;  translated 


by  Margaret  Roper,  886;  his  opinion 
of  Church  abuses,  287;  his  Catholi- 
cism, 291;  cosmopolitanism,  279;  on 
confession,  289-290;  character  of  his 
humanism,  385;  intellectual  freedom, 
276;  description  of  Montaigu  College, 
811;  moral  reform,  285;  rationalism, 
290;  reform,  292;  on  sanitation,  25; 
his  sceptical  spirit,  287;  his  scholarly 
instinct,  283;  mentioned,  122,  158, 
211,  246,  259,  263.  264,  302,  328,  364, 
890,  405 

Esdaile,  Arundell,  480  (note) 

Espieglerie,  410 

Eudaimonism,  5 

Eulenspiegd,  cf.  Howleglas 

Euphuism,  373-374 

Exempla  honesiae  vitae,  125,  130,  132 

Exercise,  312 

Faber,  Jacobus,  281 

Fabri,  422,  439 

Faerie  Queene,  78,  92 

FaU  of  Princes,  64 

Farmer,  John  S.,  256 

Fatality  of  the  age,  29 

Faukes,  Richard,  176 

Fedem,  Karl,  5 

Feilde,  Thomas,  128,  150 

Ferrari,  G.,  467 

Fescennine  verses,  122 

Fest,  Otto,  356, 534, 536, 538  (note),  589 

Ficino,  318 

Fidio,  illustrated,  138 

Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  417 

Fifteen  Tokens,  409,  499 

Figliucci,  Felice,  354 

Finzi,  Guiseppe,  429 

Fish,  Simon,  388,  391,  396 

Fiske,  John,  32 

Fitzgerald,  Lady  Elizabeth,  517 

Fletcher,  A.  R.  L.,  281 

Fletcher,  R.,  quoted.  524 

Flodden  Field,  416 

Flower  and  the  Leaf,  65-64;  added  by 

Speght,    63;    not   by   Lydgate.    64; 

doubted    by    Tyrwhit,    63;    Skeat's 


INDEX 


553 


hypothesis,  64;  the  plot,  63;  trans- 
lated by  Dryden,  63;  Keat's  sonnet 
on,  63 

FlUgel.  Ewald.  44,  135,  343,  419,  486 
(note) 

Formal  literary  tradition,  60-61 

Forrest,  386 

Fortini,  406 

Fountains  Abbey,  322 

Fowler,  Mary,  457  (note) 

Fowler,  Thomas,  246 

Fox,  Richard,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  246 

Foxe,  John,  389,  390,  390  (note),  402 
(note),  415 

Foxwell,  A.  K.,  343,  378,  445,  446 
(note),  448  (note),  450  (note),  469, 
471,  483  (note),  484  (note),  486,  510 
(note),  520,  521 

Francis,  I,  189 

Frairane,  167 

Frederick  of  Jennen,  409 

French  alliance,  8 

French  influence  on  poetry,  415-444 

French  influence  on  prose,  490-503 

du  Fresnoy,  449  (note) 

Friedlaender,  Ludwig,  523 

Friedmann,  Paul,  461 

Frith,  John,  207.  386,  389,  392 

Froben,  382  (note) 

Froebel,  330 

Froissart,  493-494 

FrotUda,  167 

Froude,  J.  A.,  History  of  England,  511, 
515;  Life  and  Letters  of  Erasmus,  45, 
229  (note),  264  (note),  292  (note); 
The  Pilgrim,  21;  conception  of  Henry 
VIII,  266;  "Chelsea  tradition,"  275 

Fuchs,  Eduard,  Das  Erotische  Element, 
46;  SiUengeschichte,  16 

Fuller,  Thomas.  256,  260,  301 

Fumiss  Abbey,  322 

Fumival,  F.  J.,  117,  432  (note) 

Gaguin,  Robert,  157,  171 

Gairdner,    James,    Paston    Letters,    49; 

English     Church     in     the     Sixteenth 

Century,  199,  387 


Galen,  Linacre's  translation  of,  260,  314 

Galileo,  22,  23,  24 

Games,  314 

Gammer   Gurton's   Needle,    155    (note) 

Gardiner,  Stephen,  256 

Garlandia,   John  of,    125,    131    (note), 

147,  148,  232 
Gamesche,  171,  234 
"Garret,"  517-518  (note) 
Gascoigne,  George,  356  (note),  531-532 
Gasquet,  F.  A.,  397 
Genealogy  e  of  Heresye,  205 
Geography,  increased  knowledge  of,  30 
German  influence,  381-415 
Germany,  sixteenth  century  knowledge 

of,  382 
Germany,  trade  with,  383 
Gesualdo,  S.  A.,  459  (note) 
Gibbon,  Edward,  375 
Gibbons,  Cardinal,  386 
Giles,  Rev.  Dr.,  307 
Giotto,  23 

Giovanni  della  Banda  Nera,  480 
Glastonbury  Abbey,  322 
Gladstone,  W.  E.,  22 
Gnapheus,  381 
GobUive,  Godfrey,  83 
Golden  age,  321 
Goliardic  Poetry,  124 
Gothic,  321 
Gower,  54,  116,  157,  160,  214,  251,  252, 

265,281 
Graf,  Arturo,  460,  480  (note) 
Grammar  Schools,  301 
Grand  rh^toriquers,  Les,  422,  424 
Gray,  Thomas,  215,  324 
Gray,  or  Grey.  William,  345,  486 
Greek,  revival  of,  3;  study  of,  317-319; 

Ascham's  emphasis  on,   328   (note), 

in  Court  of  Love,  70 
Greg.  W.  W.,  406 
Grey,  Henry,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  29 
Grey,  Lady  Jane,  20,  389 
Grimald,     Nicholas,    350-352;     Archi- 

prophda,  351;  Christus  Redivivus,  351; 

Tottel's  Miscellany,  344;  blank  verse, 

355,  358-9;    Death    of   Zoroas,    355; 


554 


INDEX 


Marcus  Ttdlitis   Ciceroes  death,  355; 

mentioned,  69,  445,  523 
Gringoire,  426,  429 
Griselda,  the  Patient,  154 
Grocyn,  WUliam,  158, 286, 259.  260,  262 
Guest,  353 
Guevara,  Antonio  de,  373-380;  origin 

of   the   Relox,    374;   Menosprecio  de 

Corie,  378;  imitates  Aretino,  380;  is 

imitated  by  Bryan,  378 
Guiccardini,  456  (note),  487 
Guistinian,  187 
Gummere,  F.  B.,  154 
GUnther,  Rudolf,  303 
Gunpowder,  invention  of,  2 
Guy,  Henricus,  441 

Habel,  Edwin,  125 

Haber,  Jacob,  105 

Hague,  Arthur,  165  (note) 

HaU,  Edward.  8.  198,  278.  383,  442, 
444 

Hallam,  Henry,  341 

Halliwell,  J.  O.,  Debate  between  Somer 
and  Wynter,  128;  Sack  Fvll  of  News, 
406 

Ham  House,  76 

Hamlet,  35 

Hammond,  Elinor  P.,  220 

Hampton  Court,  architecture,  66; 
furniture,  66;  History  of,  7 

Hanford,  J.  H.,  128 

Hardy,  Sebastian,  379 

Harleian  Miscellany,  208 

Harman,  227 

Harrison,  William,  104 

Harvey,  Gabriel,  256,  353,  410  (note) 

Hastings,  Lord  George,  369 

Hauvette,  Henri,  854,  476 

Hawes,  Stephen,  74-92;  his  life,  74-76; 
"groom  of  the  Chamber,"  75;  death, 
75;  his  works,  76;  editions,  76; 
Example  of  Virtue,  date.  76;  a  con- 
flictus,  128;  plot,  78;  King  of  Love, 
79;  verses  on  Prince  Henry,  quoted, 
43;  A  Joyful  Meditation,  quoted,  88; 
Pastime  of  Pleasure,  date,  69;  Mor- 


ley's  epitome  of,  79;  comparison 
between  Example  and  Pastime,  80; 
Godfrey  Gobilive,  83;  pronunciation 
of  6nal  e,  51;  published  by  Tottel.  348; 
quoted,  57.  77,  85,  89,  140;  Mirror 
of  Good  Manners,  250-253;  Conver- 
syon  of  Swerers,  quoted,  78,  90; 
mentioned,  79,  88;  Comfort  of  Lovers, 
76  (note),  86-88;  Hawes  compared 
to  Bunyan,  86;  his  knowledge  of 
Chaucer,  55;  compared  to  Chaucer, 
86;  his  "colores,"  130;  use  of  dia- 
logue, 128;  attitude  toward  Henry 
VII,  75;  his  inventiveness,  81 
eulogy  of  Lydgate,  quoted,  57 
imitates  Lydgate,  84;  his  sources,  82 
relation  to  Spenser,  91;  his  general 
significance,  91;  not  sold  by  Dome, 
281;  his  theory  of  poetry,  76;  his 
text,  89;  his  vagueness,  92;  men- 
tioned, 116,  120,  216,  370,  371,  405, 

418,  444,  483,  492 

Hawkins,  John  Sidney,  164  (note) 
Hazlitt,  W.  Carew,  Early  Popular 
Poetry,  128,  149,  150,  155,  156  (note), 
226,  432;  Shakespeare's  Jest  Books, 
275,  406;  edition  of  Warton,  219, 
473  (note) 
Henry  VII,  French  influence  on,  418- 

419,  453;  his  literary  tastes,  42;  his 
policy,  41 ;  his  right  to  the  throne,  40 

Henry  VIII,  his  accession,  45;  the 
Assertio,  386-389;  celebrated  by 
Hawes.  43;  his  culture,  44;  Defensor 
Fidei,  386;  description  of,  45;  the 
divorce,  266,  388;  French  influence, 
419;  suggests  Froissart,  369;  his 
humanism,  44;  his  knowledge  of 
foreign  languages,  44;  his  love- 
letters,  18;  his  love  of  music,  44;  his 
morality,  46;  the  paradox  of,  46; 
Pastyme  unth  good  company e,  486;  his 
physique,  44;  popular  conception  of, 
43;  reasons  for  his  success,  47;  suc- 
cess of  his  reign,  47;  tutored  by 
Skelton,  234 

Henry,  Duke  of  Richmond.  265,  463 


INDEX 


555 


Henry,  Earl  of  Strafiford,  see  Bucking- 
ham 

Henryson,  416 

Herbert  of  Cherbury,  Lord,  511,  533 

Herenc,  Baudet,  422 

Heresy  defined,  389 

Herford,  C.  H.,  100  (note),  211  (note), 
224  (note),  381,  384,  399,  400,  402 
(note).  405  (note),  407  (note),  411 
(note) 

d'Hericault,  438,  441 

Hero  and  Leander,  147 

H^ron,  A.,  422 

Heaiod,  157 

Heywood,  John,  102-116;  alliteration, 
114;  French  influence,  102-103;  per- 
sonality, 102;  sense  of  humor,  107; 
use  of  dilemma,  108-114;  Epigrams, 
103,  256,  257;  Ejngram  cm  Himsdf, 
102;  Proverbs,  90,  103,  254,  256,  257; 
Spider  and  the  Flye,  interpretation, 
105-106;  dating,  105;  animal  char- 
acters, 103;  critical  opinion,  104; 
quoted,  107,  108-114;  Spenser's 
method,  106;  mentioned,  256;  Tot- 
tel's  Miscellany,  245,  summary  of 
Heywood,  115;  mentioned,  483,  486 

Higden,  168 

Holbein,  paints  scenery,  11;  portrait 
of  More,  278 

Holinshed.  511,  538 

Holland.  Elizabeth.  509 

HoUe,  Fritz,  366 

Homer,  157 

Hopkins,  John,  404 

Hopkins,  the  betrayer  of  Buckingham, 
584  (note) 

Horace,  meters  used,  232;  influence  of, 
282;  sold  by  Dome,  281;  in  Tottel's 
Miscellany,  846-348;  model  for  Ren- 
aissance, 348;  imitated  by  Wyatt, 
345,  480;  mentioned,  14,  123,  133, 
158,  173,  218,  302,  319,  477;  ode 
quoted,  526 

Horstmann.  Carl,  254,  255 

Howard,  Sir  Edward.  245,  247 

Howard,  Henry,  see  Surrey 


Howard,   Katharine   (Catherine),   466, 

515 
Howard,  Mary,  Duchess  of  Richmond, 

509,  510 
Hovdeglas,     TyU,    410-415;    given    to 

Spencer,  410  (note);  contents,  411; 

object,  412;  satire,  413;  mentioned, 

407 
Hugo,  Victor,  415 

Humanism,  definition  of,  230;  educa- 
tional   theory,     295;    education    of 

women,     333-341;     the    goal,     307; 

moraUty,  261-262;  the  Reformation. 

22,  294;  the  sterility  of  the  himianists, 

262 
Hume,  Martin,  Spanish  Chronicle,  878, 

463;  Wives  of  Henry  VIII,  365,  461 
Humphrey,  Duke   of   Gloucester,  208, 

236,  259 
Hundred  Mery  Talys,  405 
Hunn,  Richard,  211 
Hussey,  John,  29,  468 
Hutten,     Ulrich     von,     see     Epistolae 

Obscurorum  Virorum 
Huxley,  T.  H.,  22 
Hye  Way  to  the  Spittal  Hous,  ii5-ii8, 

502 
Hymns,  Latin,  124 
Hyrde,  315,  323  (note),  336,  338 

Image  du  Monde,  82-83 

Image  of  Ipocryay,  205 

Imelmann,  Rudolf,  855  (note).  534,  536, 

539 
Immorality  of  Renaissance,  16 
Ink  horn  terms,  140 
International  Manuscripts,  348 
Introductio,  138 
Islip,  Abbot,  232 
Italian    influence    on    English    poetry. 

454-486 
Italian  influence  on  English  prose,  487 
Italian  Relation,  The,  12,  13,  14,  18,  19. 

25,  38,  39,  41 

Jack  the  Giant  Killer,  496 
James  IV,  of  Scotland,  131,  316 


556 


INDEX 


Jamieson,  T.  H.,  171  (note),  249,  250, 

254 
Jannet,    ed.    of    Marot,    448    (note), 

525 
Jardin  de  Plaisance,  422,  439 
Jerome,  Friar,  see  Barlow 
Jest  Books,  405-415 
Johnson,  Sam,  333 
Jonson,  Ben,  333,  500 
Jusserand,  Ambassador,  416 
Justea  of  the  Monethes,  151 
Juvenal,  133,  157,  173.  193,  232,  262, 

319,  477 
Jyl  of  Brentford,  432 

Kalendar  of  Shepherds,  499-501 
Kalendar  of  Shyppars,  499 
Kalendier  des  bergiers,  500 
Kastner,  L.  E.,  451  (notes  1,  2) 
Katharine  (Katherine)  of  Aragon,  265, 

339,  362,  363,  388 
Kemble,  Salomon  and  Saturn,  408 
Kepler,  23 

Ker,  W.  P.,  369,  370,  373,  493 
King  Arthur,  325 
Kingsley,  117 
Kingston,  465 

Kittredge,  G.  L.,  491  (note) 
Knight.  Samuel,  286,  301 
Knight's  Tale,  The,  479 
Knyvet,  Sir  Edward,  518 
Koelbing,  A.,  100  (note) 
Koeppel,  Emil,  406  (note),  452  (note), 

456  (note),  475  (note) 
Kuypers,  Franz,  303,  331   (note),  313 

(note) 

La  Belle  Dame,  50 

Laborinthus,  125,  133,  148 

Laing,  D.,  75 

Lamentation  of  Mary  Magdalen,  134 

Lamentatio  Oedipi,  148 

Lando,  Ortensio,  354 

Lane,  Dr.  J.  E.,  28  (note) 

Lang,  H.  R.,  125 

Lanthome  of  Light,  389  (note) 

Latimer,  259 


Latin,  Classical  and  Medieval  con- 
trasted, 127 

Law,  Ernest,  7,  196 

Lawrence,  John,  210 

Lazarillo,  410  (note) 

Lecky,  W.  E.,  389 

Lee,  Anthony,  486 

Lee,  Dr.  Edward,  362,  386 

Lee,  Sir  Sidney,  Caxton,  D.  N.  B.,  488; 
Elizabethan  Sonnets,  448,  460  (note); 
French  Renaissance  in  England,  353 
(note),  416  (note),  456  (note);  Great 
Englishmen  of  the  Sixteenth  Century, 
271;  Huon  of  Burdeux.  369,  374,  379, 
494 

Leeu,  Gerard,  408,  500 

LeForestier,  Jacques,  426 

Lehmeyer,  Fred,  431  (note) 

a  Leigh,  511 

Leland,  John,  456  (note),  483,  519,  520 

LeMaire  de  Beige,  422 

Leo  X,  264 

Letter    in    ink    horn    terms,    142-143 

Lettou,  John,  488 

Life  of  Saint  Werburge,  i5^^5 

Lily  (Lilly),  William,  158,  171,  218, 
236,  259,  260 

Linacre,  Thomas,  158,  201,  236,  259, 
260,  263,  305,  314 

Lindsay,  Rev.  Dr.,  282 

Lindisfeme  Abbey,  322 

Lisle,  Lord,  462,  463 

Livy,  157,  262 

Locher,  Jacob,  Stidtitiae  Nans,  the 
change  from  the  Narrenschiff,  228, 
248,  249;  mentioned,  382;  list  of 
universities,  382 

LoUardism,  389 

London  Chronicle,  33 

London  Lickpenny,  220-222 

Long  Meg  of  Westminster,  268 

Longnon,  Auguste,  432  (note) 

Lorenzo,  236 

Louis  XII  of  France,  266,  388,  417 

Lounsbury,  T.  R.,  68,  118,  160 

Lover  and  a  Jay,  see  Feilde 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  59 


INDEX 


557 


Lucan,  157.  281 

Lucian,  281,  398,  399 

Lucillius,  157 

Lucretius,  262 

Lupton,  J.  H.,  260,  264  (note) 

Lusty  Juvenilis,  152 

Luther,  Martin,  opposed  by  More,  268; 
denounced  by  Henry  VII,  387;  domi- 
nant in  Germany,  385;  compared 
with  Eulenspiegel,  415;  mentioned, 
264,  293,  391.  392.  396.  403.  503 

Lycidas,  148 

Lydgate,  John,  Devotion  of  the  Foides, 
73;  CouH  of  Sapience,  81;  Fcdl  of 
Princes,  343;  London  Lickpenny,  220; 
Order  of  Fools,  226;  Temple  of  Glas, 
62,71,83  (note);  Stans  Puer,  281; 
literary  channel,  60;  influence  on 
Hawes,  89;  his  imitators,  62;  his 
reputation,  56;  Ritson's  opinion  of, 
61;  hb  style,  62;  imitated  in  Court  of 
Love,  69,  70;  "broken-backed  line," 
62;  use  of  Latin,  133;  mentioned,  40, 
48,  55,  59,  74,  116,  139,  149,  157,  160, 
255,  264,  542 

Lyly,  John,  340  (note) 

McConaughy,  J.,  351.  881 

Macaulay.  G.  C,  369 

Macchiavelli,  16.  385,  476,  487 

Macchiavellianism,  16 

MacCracken,  H.  N.,  61,  64,  81,  133,  281 

Macfarlane,  John,  422,  499 

Mac  Flecknoe,  226,  227 

Macbado,  Roger,  419 

Mackenzie,  412 

Macrobius,  157 

Maidment,  James,  222  (note) 

Mair.  G.  H.,  140 

Major,  Prince  Henry  the  Navigator,  31 

Malherbe.  421 

Malory,    Sir    Thomas,    490-493;    not 

sold  by  Dome.  281;  mentioned,  84 
Mancinus.  250 
Mantuan,  Baptista  Spagnola,  243,  244, 

246.  247 
Munuel,  Der  krankheit  der  Messe,  450 


Mapes,  Walter,  Poems  of,  169 

Mappamondo  at  Pisa,  23 

Marat,  266 

Margaret  Tudor,  416 

Marillac,  466 

Mari,  Giovanni,  125,  130  (note),  182, 
133,  136,  145,  146,  148,  151,  152 

Marlowe,  C,  147,  442 

Marot,  Clement,  edited  Roman  de  la 
Rose,  441,  Villon.  436,  441;  editions. 
438;  L'Addescence  Clementine,  447 
the  preface  quoted,  447  (note) 
A  Anne,  449;  En  un  rondeau,  440 
Marot,  void,  525;  S'il  est  ainsy,  448 
(note);  court  poet,  438-442;  poems 
conventional,  448;  his  style,  442; 
influence  on  Wyatt,  447-450;  poem 
similar  to  one  by  Wyatt,  448  (note); 
mentioned,  17,  432,  435.  444. 454,  481 

Marot,  Jean,  422.  439 

Marshe,  Thomas,  175,  219 

Martial,  256-258;  Bk.  X,  Ep.  i7,  523; 
various  versions  of  it,  528-526; 
mentioned,  173,  232,  319 

Martin  Marprelate,  22,  400 

Martinus  Dorpius,  284 

Marullus,  Michael  Tarchaniota,  261, 
262 

Mary  Tudor,  her  learning,  339;  the 
legitimacy  of.  462;  mentioned,  266, 
417 

Mary  of  Burgundy,  361 

Mary  of  Nemmengen,  361 

Mary  Stewart,  463 

Matilda,  Queen.  266 

Maximianus,  157 

Mayor,  J.  E.  B..  310 

Maze  at  Hampton  Court,  66 

Mazzuchelli,  Giammaria,  481  (note) 

Meams,  402  (note) 

Meaulies,  John,  191  (note) 

Medieval  attitude  toward  this  life,  3 

Medieval  hymnology.  4 

Medieval  Latin,  121 

Me<Heval  rhetorical  devices,  125 

Medici.  Giulio  d«>,  477 

Medici,  Hippolito  de,  Cardinal.  354,  536 


£58 


INDEX 


Menendez  y  Pelayo,  365 

Menghini,  Marion,  474 

Meres,  Francis,  219,  378 

Mery  Tales  of  Skelion,  406 

Meschinot,  422 

Meung,  Jean  de,  430 

Middleton,  William,  493  (note) 

Milanessi,  Carlo,  456 

Milton,  John,  325,  398,  435 

Ming,  542  (note) 

Mirror  for  Magistrates,  541 

Mitchell,  A.  F.,  402  (note) 

Mock  wills,  431-434 

Modem  Language  Notes,  177 

Modem  Language  Association,  Publica- 
tions of,  177 

Modem  Language  Review,  248 

Molinet,  422 

Molinier,  H.  J.,  243 

Molza,  354,  536 

Montaigu  College,  310,  311 

Montmerqufe-Didot,  422 

Monumenta   Germaniae  Historica,    128 

Morality  in  English  Literature,  18 

Morality  in  Renaissance,  15 

More,  Sir  Thomas,  works  sold  by  Dome, 
281;  works,  343;  Confutation,  399; 
Dialogue  of  Images,  294;  Epigram- 
mata,  261;  In  Anglum  GaUicae  Lin- 
guae Affectorem,  442;  Life  of  Pico, 
487;  Lucian,  399;  Supplycacyon  of 
Sotdes,  208,  397-398;  Utopia,  editions 
of,  269;  Robison's  translation,  270; 
Sampson's  edition,  269;  character- 
istics of,  268;  fundamental  conception 
of,  270;  letter  about,  277;  origin  of, 
269;  modernity  of,  271-272;  men- 
tioned, 29,  205,  381,  496;  More's 
character,  267-268;  friend  of  Eras- 
mus, 281;  Heywood,  106,  256;  his 
household,  338;  his  opinion  of  trans- 
lating the  Bible  into  English,  207, 
392,  393;  allowed  to  read  heretical 
books,  391;  debate  with  TjTidale,  392; 
interpretation  of  terms,  394;  in- 
tellectual freedom,  276;  mentioned, 
158,  171,  211,  236,  246,  256,  259,  260, 


261,  263,  348,  364,  386,  389,  400,  405, 

444,  505 
Morley,  Henry,  the  poet,  486 
Morley,  Henry,  the  scholar,  79 
Morlini,  406 
Morton,  Archbishop,  40,  171,  245.  246, 

247,274 
Mountjoy,  Charles,  280,  326 
Moyen  de  Parvenir,  406 
Mullinger,  J.  Bass,  Aihenae  Cantabrig- 

ienses  ed.,  93;  Alcock  in  D.  N.  B., 

426  (notes  2,  3) 
Murison,  William,  80 
Mustard.  W.  P.,  243,  244,  246 

Narrenschiff,    characteristics    of,    222; 

in  English  prose,  100;  Locher's  version 

and  Barclay's,  226;  illustrations,  224; 

universities     mentioned,     382;     see 

Brandt 
Nash,    Thomas,    Harvey    controversy, 

400;   "lascivious  rhymes,"   18;   Un- 
fortunate Traveller,  516 
Nature,  man's  relation  to,  24ff. 
Neilson,  W.  A.,  29 
New  Nut  Brovm  Maid,  156  (note) 
Newman,  John  Henry  Cardinal,  274 
Nichols,  F.  M.,  43,  259,  277,  279,  284 
Noels,  134 
Norfolk,   Duke  of,   conservative,   515; 

correspondance  with  Cromwell,  517; 

financial  straits,  508;  letter  to  Wol- 

sey,  21;  negotiates  a  marriage,  21; 

presides  at  Buckingham's  trial,  508' 

mentioned,  386 
Norfolk,    Duchess    of,   her    character. 

509;  difficulties  with  the  Duke.  50»- 

510 
North.  Sir  Thomas,  373 
Nott,  George  Frederick,  336,  346,  460, 

472,   511,   514,   516,   533,  535,    537, 
540 
Nove  dictionis  fidio,  137 
Nucius  Nisancer,  420 
Nutbrowne    Mayde,    153-156;    a   eon- 

flictus,  129;  mentioned,  444 
Nutter,  Dr.  Hans,  82 


INDEX 


550 


Oberon,  495.  498 

Observants,  390 

Occam,  295 

Occleve,  40,  55,  281 

O'Donovan,  Louis,  386 

Oesterley,  Herman,  405,  406  (note) 

Oldcastle,  Sir  John,  208 

Orcagna,  23 

Order  of  Fools,  226 

Oriel  College  Library,  35,  236 

Orpheus,  5 

Orti  OriceUari,  476,  477 

Osney  Abbey,  322 

Ouvry,  Fred,  410  (note) 

Ovid,  71,  157,  281,  346 

Oxford,  236,  259 

Oxford  Historical  Society,  260 

Oxford  Reformers,  267 

Padelford,  F.  M.,  Anglia,  505,  522, 
532;  Early  Sixteenth  Century  Lyrics, 
445 

Palgrave,  381 

Pandulpho,  344 

Paris,  Gaston,  434 

Park,  Nugae  Poeticae,  211,  432 

Paricer  Society,  Ridley,  350 

Parr,  Catherine,  380 

Parson  of  Kahnborow,  384  (note),  407, 
410 

Paston  Letters,  12,  21,  48 

Paston,  Sir  John,  49 

Pastoral,  325 

Patrizi,  Francesco,  307 

Paynell,  Thomas,  335  (note) 

Peele,  George.  415 

Percy,  Henry,  462 

Persius,  157,  173,  262.  281 

Pestalozzi,  330 

Petrarch,  Francesco.  456-560;  his  com- 
ments on  his  sonnets,  458-459; 
condemned  by  AschAm,  324;  his 
humanism,  234-236;  master  of  quai- 
trooento,  474;  model  of  Renaissance, 
457;  sonnet  form,  522;  influence  on 
Wyatt,  469;  his  Africa,  547;  Codex 
8195,    458    (note);    the    Rime,    457; 


Sonnet,   CII,   469;   CXXXIV,  474; 

CXL,  520;  CXC,  472;  CCLXIX,  470; 

CCCX,  543;  mentioned,  77,  155,  157, 

480,  483,  523 
Petrarchism,  460 
Petrarchismo,  460 
Petronius,  319 
PAocdo  of  Plato,  5 
Phaer,  Thomas,  539 
Piccolomini,  Aeneas  Silvius,  Pope  Pius 

n,  De  Curalium  Miseriis,  237,  247, 

879;    Euryalus    and    Lucretia,    409; 

mentioned,  30 
Picholomini,  B.  C,  536 
Pickering,  William,  511 
Pico  della  Mirandola,  318 
Picot,  Emile,  128 
Pi6ri,  Marius,  460 
Piers  Plowman,  122,  146 
Pigouchet,  Philippe,  426 
Pilgrim  The,  21 
Pilgrimage  of  Grace,  386,  517 
Pilffrim's  Progress,  78,  326 
Pilgrim's  Tale,  117 
Pisander,  157 
Pistoia,  11,  468,  475 
Pius  n,  see  Piccolomini 
Pizarro,  22 
Plato,  the  Phaedo,  5;  the  Republic,  274; 

use  of  dialogue,  398 
Platonic  conception  of  beauty,  812 
Platonists,  The  early,  318 
Plautus,  157.  262,  351 
PMiade,  421,  442 
PUny,  281 
Plomer,  H.  R.,  502 
Plowman  s  Tale,  117 
Plutarch,  157 

Poetae  Laiini  Aevi  Carolini,  123 
Poggio's  tales,  17,  157,  406 
Pole,  Reginald  Cardinal.  21,  386 
Polemic  dialogue,  206,  .198-401 
Politian,   Italian   humanist.   2.36,   261; 

sold  by  Dome,  281 ;  recommended  by 

Elyot,  317;  Aristotle's  Analytics,  262; 

mentioned,  363 
Political  situation,  .30 


560 


INDEX 


Pollard,  A.  F.,  England  under  Protector 

Somerset,  349;  Henry  VIII,  44,  46 
Pollard,  A.  W.,  CaaUe  of  Labour,  425. 

427.  429;  mentioned,  355 
Polychronicon,  168 
Pontano,  Giovanni,  261, 262,  302  (note), 

307,317 
Pope,   Alexander,   147,   174,   219,   292, 

325,  333,  415 
Population  of  England,  30 
Potter,  A.  K.,  74,  76,  82,  89  (note) 
Priapeia,  16 

Prince  Henry  the  Navigator,  31 
Printing,  35ff. 
Printers,  early,  487-489 
Prior,  Mathew,  154 
Proclus,  De  Sphaera,  260 
Proctor,  Robert,  408,  409,  410  (note) 
Proksch,  J.  K.,  28  (note) 
Proper  Dialogue,  A,  207 
Propertius,  157 
Ptolemaic  system,  23 
Puici,  Luigi,  32 
Pmitans,  22 
Puttenham,    Arte    of   English    Poesie, 

102,  219,  256,  258,  342,  389  (note), 

456,  483,  506 
Pynson,  Richard,   203,  246,  248,  254, 

262,  408,  426,  495  (note),  498,  500 

Quintilian,  157.  327 
Quintus  Curtins,  157 

Raine,  James,  38 

Rastell,  John,  11,  256,  268,  368.  405 

Raynaud,  Gaston,  439 

Reading  Abbey,  322 

Recuyett  of  the  Histories  of  Troye,  84 

Rede  me  and  Be  not  Wrothe,  208-212, 

400 
Reformation  and  Humanism,  294 
Reformers,  difference  in  beliefs,  391-392 
Reich  of  Freiburg,  82 
Rembrandt,  414;  Religion  and  Science, 

23 
Remedies  for  plague,  27-28 
Remedy  of  Love,  139 


Renaissance  paradoxes,  37 

Reni,  Guido,  216 

Repeticio,  131;  in  Skelton,  163;  in 
Cock  Lorrelles  Bote,  222 

Retrograd  verses,  132 

Reuchlm,  264 

Rey,  A.,  100  (note),  101  (note) 

Reynard  the  Fox,  384 

Rh^toriquers,  441 

Richard  II,  King,  208 

Richard  III,  King,  268 

Ridley,  Bishop  Nicholas,  350 

Runbault,  Ed.  F.,  222  (note) 

Rime-royal,  60 

Rithm,  145 

Rithmus  cum  duplid  differentia,  152 

Ritson,  61,  164  (note) 

Riviere,  249,  250 

Robbery,  39 

Robin  Hood,  281,  409 

Rome,  sack  of,  456 

Romanello,  472 

Roman  de  la  Rose,  425,  430,  433,  441 

Rondeau,  439-441 

Rood,  the  printer,  263 

Roper,  Margaret,  character,  338;  Ten- 
nyson's verse  on,  268;  translated 
Erasmus,  336;  chooses  Ascham,  306; 
mentioned,  338 

Roper,  William,  Life  of  More,  387 

Ros,  Sir  Richard,  50,  51 

Roscoe,  215  (note) 

Rosenbach,  A.  S.  W..  368 

Rousseau,  266 

Routh,  H.  v.,  431 

Roy,  William,  207,  208,  400 

Royas,  Ferdinando  de,  364-365 

Rumming,  Elinor,  229 

Ruscellai,  353,  354,  476 

Russell,  Sir  John,  477 

Rutter  of  the  Sea,  499 

Sack  Full  of  News,  406 

SackviUe,  Thomas,  69,  330,  506 

St.  Albans  Press,  488 

Saint  Alexis,  4 

Saintsbury,  George,  Cambridge  History 


INDEX 


561 


of  Literature,  64;  The  Earlier  Renais- 
sance, 280;  History  of  English  Prosody, 
353;  quoted,  429  (note),  256,  257 

Saint-Gelais,  Melin  de,  character  of  his 
verse,  441;  influence  on  Wyatt,  450- 
453 

Saint-Gelais,  Octovien  de,  243,  534,  535 

St.  Paul's  School,  300 

St.  Thomas'  Shrine,  IS 

Salesbury,  William,  62 

Sallust,  157,  281 

Salomon  and  Marcolphus,  407 

Salsbury,  John  of,  232 

Sampson,  George,  269 

Sanitation,  25 

Sannazaro,  Jacopo,  372,  451,  470 

San  Pedro,  Diego  de,  372 

Satumian  verses,  122 

Schick,  J.,  on  Court  of  Love,  69;  on 
Hawes,  84,  91;  on  Temj^  of  Glas,  62 

Schroeder,  Karl,  274 

Schultz,  J.  R.,  420 

Scipio  Africanus,  317 

Seoggin,  Tales  of,  407,  415;  given  by 
Spenser  to  Harvey,  410  (note) 

Scott,  J.,  156  (note) 

Scott,  Walter,  84,  174 

Sadtish  State  Papers,  21 

Scrope,  Stephen,  21 

SeBoyar,  G.,  204 

Seebohm.  H.,  286 

Seneca,  157,  263 

Sensuousness  in  English  literature,  17 

Serafino,  474^76,  448,  476,  477,  480, 
483 

Servatius,  286 

Servius  Maurus,  538  (note) 

Settle,  E..  174 

Seymour,  Jane,  515,  517 

Seymous,  Sir  Thomas,  510 

Shadwell,  Thomas,  174,  226  (note) 

Shaftesbury,  Earl  of,  174 

Shakespeare.  WUliam,  123,  232,  248, 
324.496 

Shakespearean  sonnet,  522 

Sharman,  Julian,  257 

Ship  cf  Fooii,  see  Barclay 


Sidney.  Sir  Phihp,  203,  506.  523 

Silver  in  London,  12 

Silvius,  Aeneas,  see  Piccolomini 

Simonds,  W.  E.,  446  (note),  462,  463, 
464,  465 

Sir  Thopas,  479 

Skeat,  Bertha  M.,  134 

Skeat,  W.  W.,  65,  68,  117 

Skelton,  John,  his  life,  92-95,  92  (note); 
associated  with  the  Howards,  531; 
attack  on  Wolsey,  185ff.;  attitude 
toward  Church,  180ff.;  Barclay, 
99-100;  humanist,  232-234;  knowl- 
edge of  Italian,  157  (note);  learning, 
93;  loyalty,  177;  not  a  national 
leader,  454;  opinion  of  Court,  99; 
"Orator  Regius,"  94;  Poet  Laureat, 
94;  his  reading,  157,  299;  Reforma- 
tion, 183-184;  his  social  caste,  488; 
Ancient  Acquaintance,  160;  Bouge  of 
Court,  92-101;  dating,  101  (note); 
interpretation  of,  101;  plot,  95;  School 
of  Lydgate,  96;  mentioned,  156,  160; 
Colin  Clout,  interpretation,  179-186, 
194-201;  dating,  194;  Bullein's  ac- 
count, 195;  Thynne's  account,  118, 
194;  dating,  194;  mentioned,  158; 
Earl  of  Northumberland,  161;  Epitaph, 
171;  Flodden  Field,  171;  Garland  of 
Laurel,  158,  170;  Gamesche,  94; 
Magnyfycence,  158,  444;  Manerly 
Margery,  161,  164;  Mistress  Anne, 
161;  My  darling  dere,  160,  164; 
Phillip  Sparrow,  158,  212-215;  Rep- 
lycacion,  201-205;  Speke,  Parrot, 
176;  Tunnyng  of  Elinor  Rumming, 
215-217;  Ware  the  Hawk,  162;  Why 
Come  Ye  Not  to  Court,  190-194;  his 
alliteration,  160;  aureate  language, 
162;  concentric  plan  of  satires,  218; 
concreteness,  97;  dating  of  satires, 
175-177;  Greek,  158-159;  "Harvy 
Hafter,"  97;  humanistic  I^tin,  160; 
lost  poems,  172;  music  to  the  songs, 
98;  not  sold  by  Dome,  281;  ob- 
scurity, 174;  pronunciation.  53;  rep- 
eUcio,  103;  satire,  171-205;  scansion. 


562 


INDEX 


163;  scholarly  knowledge  of  Chaucer, 
53;  theory  of  poetry,  202;  tradition, 
268;  use  of  French,  420;  mentioned, 
116,  120,  229,  328  (note),  332,  389, 
407,  444,  483,  499,  505,  544 

Skelton,  Merry  Tales  of,  410  (note), 
415 

Skeltoniads,  166 

Skeitonic  Verse,  166-170 

Smeaton,  Mark,  462 

Smerte,  Epitaph  of  the  Duke  of  Bedford, 
quoted,  129,  131,  132,  135,  138,  139 

Smith,  Gilbert,  351 

Somerset,  Edward,  349 

Sommer,  H.  O.,  Kalendar  of  Shepherds, 
499,  501;  Morte  Darthur,  490,  492 

Sommers,  Will,  415 

Songs  and  Carols,  152 

Sortes  Vergilianae,  3 

Southwell,  Sir  Richard,  511 

Southey,  Robert,  89 

Spanish  influence,  362-381 

Spenser,  Edmund,  Amoretti,  460;  Four 
Hymns,  312;  Faerie  Queene,  78,  92; 
Mother  Hubbard's  Tale,  106,  226 
(note);  note  to  Harvey,  410  (note); 
America,  34;  Chaucer,  56,  116;  com- 
bines the  four  types,  116;  mentioned, 
78,  416,  499,  505,  506 

Spenser  Society,  256 

Spingarn,  J.  E.,  77 

Standish,  Henry,  187,  211 

Stapleton,  305 

Starkey,  21,  27,  399 

Statins,  157 

Statutes  of  Love,  69 

Steen,  Jan,  216,  414 

Steevens,  359 

Stemhold,  Thomas,  404,  481 

Stirgonia,  Archbishop  of,  242 

Stokes,  F.  M.,  295 

Sudor  Anglicus.  26-28 

Suetonius,  262 

Suffold,  Duke  of,  see  Brandon,  Charles 

Sulpitius,  281 

Surrey,  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of,  504- 
545;   the   MSS.,   505;   Aeneid,    344; 


Fifty-fifth  Psalm,  532,  540;  From 
Tuscan  came,  516;  I  that  Ulysses,  530; 
London,  hast  thou,  512-513;  Love  that 
doth  reign,  522;  Martial  the  things,  523; 
Of  thy  life,  Thomas,  527;  The  golden 
gift,  577  (note);  The  soote  season,  542; 
Tottel's  Miscellany,  344;  translation 
from  Horace,  526-530;  Where  raging 
love,  330;  on  Wyatt,  W.  resteth  here, 
518;  ancestry,  507;  birth  of  children, 
517;  blank  verse,  354,  534;  disliked  by 
sister,  510;  Elizabethan  reputation, 
506;  family  diflSculties,  509;  final 
couplet,  523;  financial  condition,  508; 
humanism,  523-530;  legend  of  Geral- 
dine,  516-517;  his  manners,  510-514; 
his  marriage,  510;  marriage  to  Mary 
Tudor  rumored,  504;  Medieval  Latin 
influence,  530-535;  Pickering  edition, 
523;  political  affiliations,  515;  relation 
to  Wyatt,  518-523;  Vergil,  534;  men- 
tioned, 59,  69,  348.  386,  445,  456 

Sweating  Sickness,  26-28 

Swift,  Jonathan,  Battle  of  the  Books,  106; 
Conduct  of  the  Allies,  398;  Gulliver's 
Travels,  398;  Tale  of  a  Tub,  398 

Syllogism,  attack  on,  295-296 

Symonds,  J.  A.,  235,  255,  272 

Syphilb,  28  (note) 

Tacitus,  262.  281 

Taft,  A.  I.,  391,  392,  397 

Tailebois.  Lady,  265 

Tales  of  Poggio  and  Valla,  17 

Tarleton,  415 

Tedder,  H.  R.,  409.  502 

Tempio  of  the  Malatesta.  322 

Ten  Brink,  B.  E.  K..  81,  104  (note), 

496  (note) 
Terence,  157,  263,  281 
Testament  of  the  hawthome,  434 
Theocritus,  157,  243 
Theodulus,  133 
The  traytie  of  good  lining,  499 
Theuerdank  of  Maximilian,  82 
Thomas,  William,  21,  399 
Thomas,  Lord  Vaux,  69,  345,  486 


INDEX 


568 


Thrush  and  the  Nightingale,  128 

ThUmmel,  A.,  93 

Thynne,  Francis,  117,  194 

Tibino,  Nicolo,  130,  136 

Tilley,  A.,  451  (note) 

Tintem  Abbey,  322 

Titian,  17 

Toscanelli,  32 

Tottel,  Richard,  publications,  343; 
quoted,  486 

Tottel's  Miscellany,  343-344,  434,  445- 
446,  486-487,  505 

Trade  routes,  31 

Transumptio,  137,  189 

Travellers'  tales,  34 

Travelling,  38 

Treitschke,  385 

Trissino,  353,  354,  476 

Trevesa,  J.,  168,  169 

Trollope,  A..  67 

Tudor  conceptions;  attitude  toward 
children,  19;  authorship,  42;  home- 
life,  20;  marriage,  19-20;  pretenders, 
41;  punishments,  27;  streets,  25 

Tudor,  Margaret,  388 

Tuke,  Bryan,  27,  191  (note) 

Tunstall,  Gilbert,  362,  386,  392 

Tyndale,  William,  Obedience  of  a  Chris- 
tian Man,  395;  New  Testament,  36, 
207.  390-396;  its  burning,  208,  211. 
394;  Wicked  Mammon,  208,  394; 
debate  with  More,  268,  391.  392; 
mentioned.  22,  206.  882  (note),  389. 
891,401 

"Uncertain  Authors,"  330  (note).  845. 

434.  445.  458.  528 
Underbill.  J.  G.,  362 
Unius  partis  oraiionis  pro  receptio,  137 
Usque  ad  aras,  805.  305  (note) 
Usury  forbidden.  12 
Utopia,  see  More,  Thomas 

Valerius  Maximus,  157,  262 

Valla,  17.  281 

VanDyke,  187 

Vaux,  see  Thomas.  Lord  Vaux 


Vellutello,  459 

Vergil,  medieval  conception  of,  3;  the 
enchanter,  83;  copy  of  in  Milan,  459; 
edition  of  in  1531,  538;  translations 
of,  534;  Fourth  Book  of  the  Aeneid, 
855  (note);  the  Bucolics,  263;  Grim- 
aid's  translation  of  the  Georgics,  351; 
Addison's  standard,  324;  mentioned, 
14,  157,  235,  243,  262,  281.  318,  319 

V6rard,  Antoine,  299,  419,  422,  426,  500 
de  Vere,  Francis,  510 

Villon,  Frangois.  ed.  by  Marot,  441; 
Ballade  des  Dames,  435;  Ballade  dea 
Seigneurs,  437;  compared  with  Bar- 
clay. 438;  mock  will,  432;  mentioned, 
435 

Vincentius,  157 

Vitelli.  259 

Vives,  J.  L.,  his  works,  803;  De  In- 
stituiione  Foeminae  Christianae,  334; 
De  Officio  Mariti,  308,  335,  337 
(note) ;  De  Tradendis  Disciplinis,  331 ; 
Exercitatio  Linguae  Latinae,  313; 
Instruction  of  a  Christian  Woman,  315; 
Satellitum,  316;  on  classical  authors, 
837;  early  Christian  writers,  317; 
medieval  education,  299;  educa- 
tional aims,  308;  education  of  women, 
383;  expurgation,  319;  on  Greek.  318; 
pedagogy,  802;  Spanish  influence, 
863-864;  on  the  vernacular.  830;  on 
vernacular  literature,  323;  com- 
pared with  Erasmus,  302-303  (note); 
his  mother,  338;  letter  to  Mountjoy, 
828;  stay  in  England,  303;  tutor  of 
Mary  Tudor,  362 

Vostre,  Simon,  426 

Vox  Populi.  205 

Waddington,  S.,  541 
Waller,  A.  R.,  104 
Ward,  F.  N.,  105 
Warham,  Archbishop,  280 
Warren,  F.  M.,  495 
Wars  of  the  Roses,  236 
Warton,    Thomas,    History   of   English 
Poetry,  54;  his  opinion  on  Geraldine, 


564 


INDEX 


516;  on  Grimald,  366;  on  Heywood, 
104;  on  Rastell,  368;  on  Skelton,  93, 
233;  on  Tottel,  345;  on  Wyatt,  473 

Washington,  George,  61 

Watson,  Foster,  299,  315,  316,  317 
(notes   1,   2),    322,  330,   324   (note) 

Watson,  Henry,  100 

Wealth  of  England,  13 

Webbe,  William,  506 

West,  John,  210 

Westminster  Abbey,  322 

Wever,  152 

What  our  lives  render,  624 

Whibley,  198 

"Whip  of  Six  Strings,"  386 

Whitby  Abbey,  322 

Whitington,  Robert,  93,  233 

Whittingham,  Charles.  208 

Wha  craftly  castes,  527 

Wilson,  Thomas,  Arte  of  Rhetorique,  140; 
Rule  of  Reason,  127 

Winchcomb,  Abbot  of,  187 

Windet,  John,  404  (note) 

Wingfield,  362 

Wisest  way.  The,  529 

Wolsey,  Cardinal,  attacked  by  plague, 
27;  attacked  by  Reformers,  211; 
attacked  by  Skelton,  185  ff.;  Bar- 
clay's allusion  to,  246;  as  chief  spider, 
106;  his  entertainments,  14;  his 
household  at  Hampton  Court,  7-8; 
his  foreign  policy,  191;  French  in- 
fluence, 444;  Gennan  policy,  383; 
The  Pilgrim's  Tale,  117-118;  reasons 
for  his  state,  8;  mentioned,  348,  388 

Wonderful  Shape,  409 

Wood,  Anthony,  75,  256 

Worde,  Wynkyn  de,  76,  223,  262,  426, 
600 


Wordsworth,  Christopher,  36 

Worth,  R.  N.,  38 

Wright,  Thomas,  89,  133,  134,  135,  169, 
210  (note) 

Wyatt,  Sir  Henry,  464 

Wyatt,  Margaret,  467 

Wyatt,  Sir  Thomas,  his  life,  446-447; 
ambassador  to  Spain,  362;  first  im- 
prisonment, 462;  second  imprison- 
ment, 463;  third  imprisonment,  463; 
Italians  he  may  have  known,  482 
(note);  letters  to  his  son,  486  (note); 
love  for  Anne  Boleyn,  461-477;  his 
marriage,  461;  oration  to  his  judges, 
464;  relation  to  Surrey,  518;  travels 
in  Italy,  455-456;  Blame  not  my  lute, 
485;  Caesar,  when  that,  467;  Forget 
not  yet,  485;  /  find  no  peace,  474; 
Like  unto  these,  450-452;  The  long 
love,  521;  Madame  vnthouten,  451; 
My  lute  awake,  485;  My  own  John 
Poyntz,  478;  The  pillar  perished,  470; 
Taqus,  farewell,  381;  Thenmy  of  liff, 
450;  They  fie  from  me,  485;  To  seke 
eche  where,  499;  Whoso  list  to  hunt, 
472;  Wyatt  compared  to  Marot,  448 
(note),  450;  to  Surrey,  518-523; 
conventionality,  448;  humanism,  344- 
345;  final  couplet,  448;  influence  of 
Saint-Gelais,  450-453;  Petrarchism, 
467;  principles  of  versification,  484 
(note),  rimes,  522;  scansion,  521; 
verse-forms,  485;  Egerton  MS.,  447 
(note);  Tottel,  344,  445-446;  edition 
by  Miss  Foxwell,  378;  Third  Satire, 
378;  Penitential  Psalms,  480-482; 
mentioned,  445,  543,  544 

Wyatt,  Sir  Thomas,  the  younger,  511 

Wydville,  Anthony,  150 


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